


Through Rough Waters

by NicoNico



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, BAMF Stiles, Because I needed a pirate au, Kidnapping, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 13:47:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 41,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3694541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NicoNico/pseuds/NicoNico
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles had no idea how he got in this position, tied up, blindfolded and gagged on a ship. Well, maybe he did have some sort of idea. God, how he hated pirates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Stiles had no idea how he got in this position, tied up, blindfolded and gagged on a ship. Well, maybe he did have some sort of idea. He started his day regularly; he gossiped about the town with Lydia and Allison while their parents went over their defensive plans. Then he snuck into town, because being stuck inside the gates is tormenting. All he does is learn, train and eat. It’s nothing like the bustle of the townspeople trying to sell their items, chasing after their children across the fields, and keeping watch for pirates. Don’t get Stiles wrong, he doesn’t WANT pirates to come in and raid the village and the whole point of his dad’s job was to ensure the safety of the town and ports, but he was getting a little bored.

He was just minding his own business, strolling down the seaside, when someone came behind him and knocked him out cold. Which was totally rude if he may add, he didn’t realize him walking offended someone enough to knock him unconscious. Stiles might regret a little for not telling his father where he was going beforehand, but in his defense, if he mentioned he was going out his father would either reject his request or ask him to bring one or two men with him. It’s not like Stiles was some high member of society, his father may be the captain of the queen’s navy but who really has a grudge against them. Well, other than pirates. So that’s how he found himself tied up on a freaking pirate ship, because life hates him.

Stiles wiggled around in his restraints, attempting to at least get something loosened or off. He already had a fair amount of slack on his wrists but that was only after about an hour of twisting and possibly rubbing his wrists raw. It was hard to tell the time when he couldn’t see the sun. When he gets out, someone’s gonna get beaten into a pulp and probably pushed off this ship and the person will not be Stiles. If he gets out that is.

The sound of approaching footsteps stops Stiles from escaping his bounds and goes back to pretending to be unconscious, letting his head drop back on the molding wood.

“He’s still out cold” A feminine voice stated.

“For god’s sake, I didn’t even hit him that hard, how is he still out of it? Someone just bring him to the deck.” A male’s voice responded.

Light and the sound of rushing waves flooded the room when the door was opened. The figure made their way down the steps with heavy footsteps causing the wood to groan. They gripped Stiles by the waist, heaving him over their shoulder and walked back up the steps.

“Are you sure this one’s not a lady, he’s surprisingly light.”

“Yes, Isaac, we’re sure he’s a boy. Now put him down on the deck and I’ll wake him up.” Stiles was gently placed on the wooden floor and tried his best to stay still, better to stay unconscious than to stay in these people’s company. He could hear his dad’s voice reminding him over and over again ‘All pirate are the scum of the Earth, that’s why I do this job, it’s to protect you and everyone we care about.’

Stiles was in the middle of reminiscing of his dad when he was drenched by sea water. Stiles jumped into a sitting position and spat out the water that landed in his mouth.

“Fuck, what’d you do that for?” He said while coughing. The man above him is smiling like he knew Stiles was awake the whole time and just wanted to see how long his façade would last. Asshole.

“Nice of you to finally join us Captain Stilinski. Now about your town…” the man said.

“Wait a sec, did you just call me Captain Stilinski?” Stiles asked.

“Yes.” he grunted

“I hope you realize that I’m not, you know, my father. ‘Cause that would be kinda weird …and disturbing.” The man pulled on Stiles’s shirt lifting him up.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he growled. Stiles was never one to back down from a fight and glared at the man holding him up. If Stiles was going to go down it’d be with a fight.

“You do speak English right? Me, not Captain Stilinski.” The man dropped Stiles on the wooden floors and he landed with a thud. Stiles rubbed his sore side muttering curses.  

“JACKSON, GET YOUR ASS HERE!” A blond man appeared up from one of the separate rooms within the ship. Stiles had to admit, he was pretty attractive. Like everyone Stiles has seen on this ship so far. He was fit; his blond hair cut short and his eyes the colour of the sea itself. If Lydia ever saw him she’d be quite taken. To hell with him being a pirate, if Lydia saw something she wanted she was going to have it.

“What is it Derek?” The man, Derek, glared at Jackson before shifting his gaze over to Stiles.

“I told you to get me Captain Stilinski, not his son. How in hell does this look like the Captain of the Queen’s navy?”

Jackson flinched slightly in Derek’s gaze and directed his eyes downward, tilting his head slightly before speaking. “Derek, I was told this was the guy we were looking for. A whole bunch of town people pointed me to him.”

“Oooh, someone’s in trouble.” The female Stiles heard before said.

“Shut it Erica.” replied Jackson.

“Why don’t you get something right for once?” she quipped back.

“Both of you stop.” Derek said and they both shut their mouths. “We are already too far from the port and it would be too dangerous to get near the town again. So what are we gonna do with him?” He said point to Stiles.

“We could make him one of us, I mean, I wouldn’t mind being in his company for a long period of time.” Erica leered.

“We should just push him off the ship. He’s going to be too much trouble.” Jackson said.

“Thanks for talking about me like I’m not here, really appreciate it.” Stiles responded.

“You shut up.” Derek said and Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Yes, yes, oh mighty captain.”

“Why don’t we just keep him hostage? I’m pretty sure we can get something good out of him, he is the captains son after all.” Another voice said. ‘Really where are all of these people coming from? They just seem to spawn from areas of the ship like no end.’ Stiles thought.

“Yes, great idea. Keep me and the whole navy is probably gonna be on your asses.”

“They already are. Isaac tie him up to one of the railings.”

“Okay.” Isaac said. He took the bundle of rope that was around his waist and unraveled it. Stiles could probably say at this moment he hated Isaac the most, even if he looked like a giant puppy. He was the stupid voice of reason, hell, Stiles probably would have preferred being thrown off the ship than this.

Isaac bound Stiles’s wrists to one of the sides of the ship. “Here, from this spot you can see our flag perfectly, just in case you forgot who you were taken by.” He grinned before walking away.

Stiles took in the site of the flag and that’s when he realized he really was screwed. ‘Yup being thrown off the boat is a much better opinion now.’ He thought. Stiles knew the flag, everyone did. They were the group of pirates that parent’s told their children about before they went to bed. They were the ones rumoured of destroying the most towns and destroying any other rival pirates in their way. They were also his father’s number one target – The Hales. It was obvious with just a single look at their flag. Instead of the standard skull and crossbones, which Stiles totally believes is part of the standard pirate rulebook, it was the skull of a wolf on top of a triskelion.

His father once told him they attacked the town of Beacon once and took a bunch of children with them, one being his best friend Scott, but that was nearly ten years ago. Stiles would bet his life that the three crew members he met before were some of the children that were taken those years ago.

Stiles tried to work on his wrists again, conscious of his movements. Any sudden or jerky movements would seem suspicious, and he would rather not be caught trying to escape. He still had a small chance to escape. _As long as they weren’t that far from town._ His brain supplied.

Stiles almost cried out in glee when he felt the rope slip off his wrists. Now if he could just slip off the side of the boat –

“Don’t even think about it.” A gruff voice said.

“Holy shit.” Stiles said and tried to slide away from the location of the voice. Derek looked at Stiles to the rope.

“Well, it seems like tying you up is useless. I’ll leave you be but if you try to escape I’ll rip your throat out… with my teeth.”

Stiles had to admit that was one of the weirdest threats he’s ever heard in his life. He highly doubts any human would be able to rip out another person’s throat with their teeth especially but Stiles’s dad always did say pirates were ruthless. Maybe extra strong teeth were a perk in becoming a pirate. He was highly doubtful though. Stiles didn’t offer up a response, he just glared at Derek.

Stiles leaned back onto the side of the ship again, feeling himself calm down again with the breeze brushing against him. Stiles shuts his eyes and let the ways drift him off. The day was beautiful, in a way it seemed to mock him. Here he was, surrounding by people who probably hate his father and probably will want him dead by the end of the day and the sun is shining bright behind the thin layer of clouds. The future is inevitable so he decided to enjoy the freedom while it lasted.

Every once and a while a crew member would walk past Stiles. Probably captain’s orders. He saw a buff dark skinned man would seemed as silent as his footsteps. A tanned man who smiled when he walked past Stiles and Stiles was pretty sure those dimples should have been illegal. The last man kept causing an itch at the back of Stiles’s head, like he had met the man before but he just couldn’t remember where. Like the man before him, he smiled when he walked past Stiles. He had a crooked jaw and seemed to emit sunshine wherever he went. He totally did not seem like pirate material. Probably one of the most anti-pirates he’s ever met.

“Hey, what’s your name? Derek wouldn’t tell me.” The man asked. “Oh, I’m Scott by the way.”

Scott… Shit how did he not recognize that before? The same smile, the crooked jaw. THIS was his best friend. “Scott…like Scott McCall?” he asked.

Scott stared at him. “Yea, how did you know?”

Stiles didn’t know what overcame him, it just hit him all at once, relief, happiness, and anger. He jumped to his feet and punched him across the jaw. Scott landed on the deck with a thump causing the rest of the crew to come. Stiles made a move to jump on top of Scott, to do anything to get rid of the anger when a firm body held him in place. He struggled against the man and screamed “Fuck you Scott, I thought you were dead this whole time. Do you understand how many times I walked near the shore in hope of seeing you there? How many times I had to do a double take because I thought I saw you? How many times my dad and I had to comfort Melissa because not only had she lost her son but her husband too? Was it too difficult to send us a note? Something we could at least hold onto so we had a least the hope you could come back rather than just being fish food.” Stiles started to slack in Derek’s hold, defeated. “I thought I lost you.” He said, his voice so soft it could barely be heard.

Scott looked stunned. His voice cracking when he says the name “Stiles?” With that the previous tension snapped. Scott broke into a fit of tears and ran to his best friend scooping him into his arms when Derek let him go. “Stiles, oh my god, I thought I’d never see you again.” He said, rubbing his face all over Stiles’s neck and cheek and Stiles just slumps into his arms, missing the way his best friend used to hold him whenever he was sad. Stiles could barely hear Scott’s repetition of ‘sorry’ that was being spoken into his shoulder. His anger was burnt out and he could only feel the relief from seeing his best friend again. Even if it was on a pirate ship.

The rest of the crew stood awkwardly around them. Isaac was shuffling his feet back and forth, Erica was glaring at her nails clearly trying to not look anywhere else, and the rest just blatantly stared. They had all heard some story about Scott’s best friend, the one who was filled with wit and jitters. The rest of them had no such stories to share, they were loners in comparison and found family in their crew. Scott on the other hand held onto his bond with his best friend, the one who he was now holding tight in his arms.

 ***

Allison rushed through the hallways, her boot clicking with each footstep. She pushes open the door to revel three figures staring back at her. “Stiles is gone.” She says breathlessly.

“Of course he is Ali, today’s a Tuesday, which means Stiles will explore the town, like he always does.” John chuckles, although it was annoying that his son escapes the same day every week he knows he won’t be able to keep Stiles in if he doesn’t want to stay. So he usually lets this day slide.

“Yes, I know today’s a Tuesday but did any of you bother to look at the time? Stiles always comes back before noon so none of the men who are supposed to be watching him get in trouble. It’s already 3 in the afternoon. I’ve went into town and no one has even seen him recently. The last time was early in the morning; he was walking along the shore again and then nothing.” Allison said.

John’s face paled, he had heard rumours of an unmarked ship around the vicinity and he had hoped they weren’t pirates. He didn’t want a repeat of the attack by the Hales.

“John, we can all guess what took him.” Chris said and placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him. “We’ll get him back John, no matter what.”


	2. Chapter 2

A deep growl reached Stiles ears and Scott immediately let go of Stiles. He swore before Scott turned around to face Derek his eyes were golden and not the deep brown he was used to seeing. ‘Probably just a trick of the light’ he thought when Scott turned back. Most of the crew had returned back to what they were doing before, whatever it was. Stiles hoped it wasn’t gutting anyone but his dad has told him many stories, so it could be anything really. On the deck only Scott, Stiles and Derek remained. And seriously couldn’t this guy take a hint, he and Scott had a lot of bro time to make up for which wouldn’t have happened if Derek didn’t kidnap Scott all those years ago.

“Stiles, I have so much to tell you man! You have no idea what you’ve been missing staying inside town.” Scott smiled and led Stiles inside. While he walked, Scott tilted his head to the side in front of Derek, just like Jackson had done before. Stiles would have to question him about that later, see if it was another weird pirate custom.

Scott pulled him through the corridors by the wrist and Stiles had to withhold his groan of pain. He had no idea when Scott got so strong but after this he is most definitely going to have a bruise around his wrists to decorate the rope burn he currently has. Fan-fucking-tastic.

The halls were normal enough; wooden walls surrounded them and left them barely any room to move. The hall was no larger than two people’s width, but neither of them minded the close proximity. There were no pictures on the walls. ‘Do pirates even keep pictures?’ Stiles thought. Scott took abrupt turns every once and a while causing Stiles to almost trip on the corners of the connecting walls. He stopped directly in front of a door with a Silver line across it. He could see the letter ‘D’ etched into the center but unlike the smooth walls they passed this door was especially roughed up. Stiles could make out parts of letters here and there that were covered by large scratches. The other doors Stiles past looked nothing like this one, the others were too perfect - there was a story to tell here.

The door barely groaned when Scott opened it. He walked inside, dragging Stiles with him and closed the door gently. Stiles wasn’t sure if he was more scared or curious. Like the door the room was also filled with scratch marks, ones that ran deep within the wood. The room was almost bare except for the bed that was placed facing the door and a small table with a notebook on top. The bed looked barely touched, like whoever owned this room did not sleep a wink on the bed but on the floors of the ship. For all he knows though this room may just be a place where they tortured their prisoners with all the knife-like markings. Although, he highly doubted Scott would be able to harm a hair on his head. They were still best bros for life, and rule number one was clearly unwritten ‘Don’t kill your bro.’

Scott let go of Stiles wrist to lie on the bed. It creaked until it balanced out under Scott weight. He patted the spot next to him signalling to Stiles to lie down beside him. Stiles laid down near the edge of the bed, pressing his side into Scott. The bed was a tight fit, but they used to have sleepovers before in Scott’s bed, which was probably half the size of this one. The bed felt comforting, even more so than the one he had at home. The sheets oddly did not smell of dirt and sea water like he expected but something sweeter, like wood and strawberries. Strange but comforting.

Scott sighed. “Let me just be the first to say, I’m so sorry you’re here, you were never supposed to be involved in this business. Like ever.”

“What’s done is done Scotty, a little explaining would be nice. Especially for the fact you are on this ship and had failed to contact us for goddamn years.”

Scott at least had the decency to look a little sheepish. “Would ‘I forgot’ be a good enough reason?”

“Nope.”

Scott sighed again. “Okay, so I just want to start with telling you Derek is not the bad guy. He’s a little rough on the edges but the reason I was stuck on this ship in the first place was not his fault. In fact, once he became Captain things got a little better for everyone.”

“Wait, so Derek is NOT the bad guy. Has the sea water gone to your head? He looks like a serial killer.”

“Stiles!” Scott growled. And _wow_ Stiles had no idea humans could even make a sound that deep.

“So Derek, not bad guy…well not completely bad guy because technically it’s his fault I’m on this ship in the first place.”

“Fine, I’ll give you that, but trust me, he won’t hurt you.” Stiles shook his head in understanding. He wanted to ask more questions about Derek but if he wanted to hear Scott’s story he would have to keep his mouth shut for a little bit.

“We, Jackson, Danny, Erica, Boyd, Isaac and I, weren’t taken by Derek but by his uncle Peter. The Hale pirates are sort of like a family line. Derek said originally the title of captain was supposed to go to his sister Laura but after going on a scout of the town she never came back. And Peter just happened to be the only person able to replace her being the only other person of age. A lot of the people didn’t like the way Peter had run the ship and Derek said they left. But living with Peter for two years I doubt they left so much as they were killed.” Scott took in a deep breath and silenced for a little while, like he was listening to something. He seemed to get the response he was waiting for and continued.

“With the lack of people, Peter thought it’d be a good idea if he were to restock his crew, even if it meant recruiting people by force. When he took us we were all scared. I kept telling everyone that your dad would come for us, that we’d have nothing to worry about but after two weeks we all had no hope left. He locked us inside one of the lower rooms every time one of us disobeyed him. Isaac had to go without food and water for two days once. We snuck him some water whenever we had a chance. Derek won’t let anyone near that room now. After Isaac, we all just followed at Peter’s beck and call. I’ve done stuff that I regret. I don’t even know if I could even look at my mom in the eyes anymore” He said, tears were starting to break through and he breathed in short hiccups.

“Derek….he was planning something, he and Boyd had always had some sort of comradeship- they could understand each other without saying a word. Turns out they were playing to overthrow Peter. After a raid, Derek had tackled his uncle to the ground and Boyd tied a large weight to his legs. Peter screamed and clawed at them, I was afraid they would die from their injuries before they completed their plan but they made it. They threw peter off the ship and he sunk to the bottom. We’ve been free from him since.” His last sentence was nearly a whisper.

Stiles could tell there was a part that Scott wasn’t telling him. He wasn’t stupid, neither Boyd nor Derek had any marks on their skin, and there was no way a human’s nails could cause near death injuries on another person but he knew when to push. Clearly, even after the years the topic was sore. Stiles turned to his side and brought Scott close to his body. He wrapped his arms across Scott’s body and tangled their legs together and began to rub down his back.

“It’s okay Scott, I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help you for any of this. But trust me, I will get you out and I will see you look your mom in the eyes and apologize for making her worry. Never ever think that anything you could’ve done would make any of us hate you. Even if we’ve been separated, for Melissa, dad and I, you will always be our Scott.

Scott hugged Stiles back so tightly he felt some of his bones pop. He was shaking as he cried into Stiles’s shoulder. His fingers continued to run down Scott’s back in a repetitive motion hoping to relay one final message to Scott. ‘I will be here for you.’

***

“So, Scott told him the story, does that mean he’s one of us now.” Isaac asked.

Derek sighed. They were in the dining hall so they could easily hear what Scott and Stiles were saying. More of a precaution in case Scott said a little too much to Stiles. He didn’t need to know what they were.

“You know he isn’t.”

“Mhmm, he still has to get Derek to bite him.” Erica said. “I mean if he won’t I will. I’m not passing something that sweet up.”

Boyd growled from where he sat in the corner. “Boyd, I’m just kidding, you know I love you.” She walked over and pecked him on the cheek.

“Just bite him and get it over with, you said before we needed more pack. Hell, you can do it in the middle of the night and he’ll be one of us in the morning.” Jackson said.

“I AM NOT MY UNCLE!” Derek growled, his eyes flashing red for a second. Everyone directed their eyes downward and whimpered silently. “I don’t trust him and until I do, we are not going to mention what we are to him. He stays in the dark understand?” Everyone shook their head in understanding.

The room was silent until the soft sounds of someone singing seeped through the walls. Derek could not figure out what language it was spoken in but it was beautiful, the voice was soft and calmed him like nothing ever did before. Everyone seemed to react to the song. Derek would assume it was a mermaid if they existed but the voice clearly came from his room, so it had to be Stiles. Mostly because they have all heard Scott sing and he sounded like a dying parrot. Derek rose to his feet and followed the sound. He could hear his crew muttering words of confusing behind him but he ignored them in favour of Stiles’s singing.

When Derek opened the door he was greeted by the sight of Stiles and Scott in each other’s arms. Scott seemed to have fallen asleep, his steady heartbeat a sure proof, and Stiles was singing to him while rubbing small circles in his back. The door slammed shut behind Derek causing Stiles to stop singing. He took one look at Scott and seemed glad he was still asleep before glaring at Derek. It’s not like Derek meant to slam the door, he was just too mesmerized to catch it before it closed.

“What are you doing here?” Stiles asked.

“It’s my room.” Derek grunted. For a second Derek could see surprise paint his face, like Stiles wasn’t sure anyone even lived in this room. It was true Derek didn’t sleep in the room often, favouring the room at the far end that used to belong to Laura, but it was still his room. One he had chosen for himself.

“Well, I’m kinda stuck here for the moment, because as much as I would love to move, Scott doesn’t seem to like the idea so much.” He pointed to the arm that was tightly wound across his waist. Derek did look at the arm and a part of him whined, like it should be him holding Stiles and not Scott. He didn’t know what he was thinking, he’d barely known Stiles for a day and his wolf was already getting possessive over him.

Derek walked over and pulled Scott’s arm off of Stiles. He knew that no matter what he did Scott would stay asleep, he could probably sleep through the ship sinking which Derek could never understand. “Out.” He growled.

Stiles opened his mouth before closing it again. “Asshole.” He muttered under his breath before walking out of the door.

Derek had taken the wrong hostage prisoner, lost his chance to listen to Stiles’s singing, and he has a sleeping werewolf, that won’t wake up anytime soon, on his bed. Clearly life hated him.

***

“Captain Stilinski, there is still no word of your son anywhere. There has been no suspicious ships seen recently, and no ports have reported any pirate raids.”

John rubbed through his hair, barely resisting pulling at the strands. Stiles was the only family member he had left, and he had managed to let his son get taken by pirates because he allowed Stiles to leave without his guards. But Lydia was right, he would’ve found a way to leave without them, and he would not stay inside. It was fine all the times he had done it before, but that was the thing about life, it was unpredictable and cruel. John dismissed the man and walked into his chambers.

John has been looking for his son for days, he had sent out navy members and messages to neighbouring cities just in case there was any mention of his son. He knew that no one was going to tell him he couldn’t look for his son. They all knew the story of Claudia Stilinski.

Chris, Lydia and Allison had retired many hours ago but he had a feeling that Lydia was researching in private. She never did like company other than Stiles and Allison and the other navy members probably irked her.

John changed his clothes to soft silkier cloths and tucked himself within the covers. He reached under his shirt to pull out an oval-shaped silver locket with the name ‘Claudia’ engraved on one side and ‘John’ on the other. He popped open the button and inside was a faded picture of his wife. Her brown curls worked their way down her shoulder and across her back. Her eyes were the colour of rich honey, the same colour Stiles had, and she had a smile that was so pure as if it didn’t know any of the terrors of the world.

John clutched the locket tight in his hand and whispered. “I’m sorry Claudia, I lost our baby boy. But I promise you I will get him back. Please, until then, keep him safe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't think I've killed off Peter, I like him too much, he's gonna show up sooner or later. My tumblr for art and writing is [ here ](http://nyxiaa-doodles.tumblr.com/) . I'll try my best to post the next one in a week :)


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles looked at the vast seas in front of him as he leaned on the ships railing. He’d been truly surprised by these pirates yesterday. Sure, he knew Scott was one of them so they couldn’t be THAT bad, but everything that his dad has ever told him has been wrong so far. Derek may have been a bit rude yesterday... well actually very rude, but after he was kicked out of Derek’s room Isaac came out of nowhere and brought him to another room. And while he was expecting the room to be a supply room, he was given a regular room instead. It was the room at the end of the hall and it was more furnished then Derek’s room. The bed covers were fairly clean; there were an array of book shelves filled with books and desks filled with intricate maps and letters. He knew better not to touch the maps but if some of the books were in a different position, he totally didn’t touch them.  On the door there was the letter ‘L’ carved in the door, so he guessed he was borrowing someone’s room, but if they didn’t mind Stiles couldn’t bring himself to care either.

The bed is what sold him, though. Stiles was already surprised with the amount of hospitality he had received from the people who kidnapped him and the bed he was given, god, it was perfect. Stiles was pretty sure if he ever had the chance to escape, he would give it up if he could just keep the bed. Like the sheets within Derek’s room, it shared the similar smell of wood and strawberries and the bed was soft, it seemed to consume his form as soon as he lay down. When he woke up in the morning, he was fed the same food the rest of them ate, even though he was expecting left-overs, and they had even asked if he wanted seconds. They had to be breaking like all of the how-to-be-a-pirate guidelines.  It was like everyone forgot he was the son of their arch-enemy and thought he was one of them.

Overall it was just...weird.

Scott had followed him around in the morning, ignoring most of what he was supposed to do in favour of talking to Stiles, which is why he was now in the kitchen doing the chores that he put off, leaving Stiles alone. The others had passed him, struck up a small conversation and then left. They didn’t want to follow in Scott’s footsteps. Derek on the other hand didn’t even dare to look at Stiles, and when he did, he just glared at him. Seriously, Stiles had no idea what he even did to the guy, he went from tolerable to hateful after their meeting in his room. It wasn’t even his fault they were in it. Stupid Scott.

Now that Scott was gone, Stiles had started to notice the other crew members were setting something up. The deck was filled with soft squishy mats – he had been told to move for a while when Danny placed it under his feet, a pile of dull blades were placed by the front of the ship and everyone seemed to have changed into looser, comfortable clothes.

Stiles had decided to ditch looking at the scenery in favour of watching what the crew was doing. From what he could tell, everything was set up. Members of the crew paired up and began stretching – Erica with Boyd, Jackson with Danny and Isaac seemed a little lost, probably because his partner was Scott, who was still probably washing the dishes or cleaning the table they ate at. Isaac caught Stiles looking at him and grinned. ‘oh shit, I’ve made eye contact, abort mission’ Stiles thought as he started to make a break for it, flailing as he got up.

“Hey Stiles, will you help me stretch?” Stiles turned to him looking sheepish. Even if Isaac needed a partner Stiles was going to say no, he would not bury himself further into pirate business. He opened his mouth to say no but he was met with the saddest face Stiles had ever seen on a person. He could probably put puppies to shame for god’s sake. Stiles was so screwed.

“Fine.”

Isaac took Stiles by the arm and sat him down on the mat before pushing his back towards his legs.

“Wait…. If I’m supposed to be helping you stretch, why are you helping me stretch?” Stiles asked, trying to ignore the pain in his calves and thighs. He hadn’t stretched in a long time and it seemed as if that fact was catching up to him.

“Oh, I forgot, I usually do this with Scott and I help him stretch first. Well we’re already half-way there so might as well finish it.” Stiles groaned at an especially good stretch and after Isaac was done he had never felt so loose in his life. Helping Isaac stretch was easy enough, he only said something whenever he wanted him to apply or lessen the pressure during a stretch.

By the time they were all done, Scott had finished his dishes and he looked happy that Stiles was partaking in their activities. He walked up to the both of them.

“Isaac, will you help me stretch?” Scott whined. And god, if he couldn’t resist Isaac’s puppy-like face, he did not know what human would be able to resist Scott’s. He just looked so sad. Isaac agreed and he got to his feet to help Scott through the routine that he missed. Stiles, thinking that it was his chance to escape, stood up, only to be blocked by Derek.

“What’s he doing here?” he asked. Stiles scrunched up his nose, did Derek really have to show his distaste every chance he got. He understood it okay, he got the wrong guy, and Stiles had taken his bed the night before, but in both cases it was in no way Stiles’s fault.

“Isn’t it obvious Der’ he’s gonna train with us.” Erica said, smiling. She was sitting in Boyd’s lap, twirling the ends of her ponytail. “I mean, he’s gonna be stuck with us for a while, we should make sure he knows what he’s going to be dealing with.”

Derek growled at her. “He will never know what he is _dealing_ with.”

“Uh, you both know, I am here. Like is there a rule that when Derek comes we all forget about Stiles. I mean this is the second time it’s happened already.”

Erica and Scott let out a huff of laughter while Derek just glared at Stiles. Stiles found himself returning the glare. Stiles walked towards Derek until they were directly in front of each other. So close that Stiles could feel the heat radiating off of Derek. “And what makes you think I can’t take you on, huh, Captain?” He said as he poked Derek’s shoulder. Stiles may be pushing his boundaries a bit, but he was challenged and a Stilinski never backs down from one. Especially from someone who was clearly underestimating him. And what else could they do to him, Scott said Derek wouldn’t hurt him and if they pushed him off the ship he would at least have a chance to swim to safety, if not call for some help.

Derek pushed away Stiles hand and scoffed. “You couldn’t take me down if you tried.”

“Is that a challenge I hear?”

“I bet my dessert that Stiles wins.” Scott yelled from where he was stretching with Isaac.

“Oooh, I’m so getting in on this, I second Scott’s vote. Don’t let me lose, sweetie.” Erica said. Jackson had laughed and bet on Derek along with Danny, Issac and Boyd.

“So what are you going to do when you lose?” Stiles asked, picking up one of the daggers and a long sword. Stiles tested the weight of each in his hand and decided both would do fine. He tucked the dagger by his waist and held the sword in front of him, pointing it directly at Derek.

“I’m not going to lose.” Derek grunted, picking up a claymore for himself.

“You know picking the heaviest and biggest sword won’t do you much, unless you’re compensating for something.” Stiles joked

Derek ignored Stiles’s comment and put his sword in front of him. “Don’t get blood on my ship.” Derek said back. They both faced each other, swords ghosting over each other.

“On the count of three.” Issac said. “One…two…three.”

Both Stiles and Derek collided against one another, their swords creating sparks as they danced against each other.  Stiles would not lose this fight, he had been practicing swordsmanship since he was a child, and his teachers often called him a prodigy with how well he handled a sword. Without one in his hand, he often felt anxious and unbalanced but every time he felt the heavy metal weighing down his arm he felt at peace.

Derek had to be one of the best fighters he had faced in a while. He thought Derek picked the heavy sword so he could use brute force to overpower Stiles, but Derek used the sword with technique. Like Stiles, he was calculating every move he made and assessing his opponent.

They collided together, swords pushing against each other near the hilt. Stiles had to hold the weapon strong within both of his hands because Derek was strong. He could feel the side of his blade biting into his skin slightly with every push Derek had made. They faces were close, he could see Derek was sweating like he was but most of all he saw the concentration in his eyes. They both fought to win.

Stiles jumped back, letting his sword slide against Derek’s with a sickening screech.

He saw Derek flinch at the sound and used that as his opening to disarm Derek. Using the hilt of his sword he hit the inside of his wrist, making his grip on the sword loosen. With a swift motion, he knocked Derek sword out of his hand, throwing his sword away with it. He grabbed Derek by the neck with his right hand, kicked his feet from under him and pushed him to the ground. Stiles fell with him, straddling his waist and grabbing the dagger with his left, placing it right beside his neck.

“I win.” Stiles said, gasping for breath above Derek.

Derek was looking at Stiles now, face full of disbelief, and Stiles stared back at him. He never had the chance to really admire Derek before, he thought everyone on this ship was oddly beautiful but Derek was stunning. His eyes were almost glowing from the excitement of the fight; he couldn’t really place the colour of them either. They were rich green filled with yellows, browns and oranges and rimmed slightly with a bright red. His hair was matted to his forehead, and clear lines of sweat ran down his face. While he was busy taking in Derek’s features, he did not notice he had dropped the dagger or that he was being brought closer to Derek. He had a hand around Stiles waist and was slowly pulling him in until they were pressed against one another, their breaths matching one another.

Stiles lay comfortably against Derek’s chest for minutes? hours? before Scott’s cough broke them from their trance. He rolled off of Derek and saw that most of the crew were either looking at them with confusing faces or smirking at Stiles.

Stiles blushed when he realized what they were doing before Scott got his attention and rose to his feet. “Um… I’m just gonna go to my room. Yea. Enjoy your extra dessert Scott and Erica.” Stiles ran inside the ship nearly tripping on the mat in his haste.

Stiles made it to the last room, after using his shirt to wipe off his sweat he dropped it to the ground and fell on top of his bed. He closed his eyes and tried to forget the feeling of Derek’s body, Derek’s arm around his waist, and his stupid, beautiful face. It took him a while to get to sleep.

***

Derek had no idea what had happened. He had to admit he had underestimated Stiles, but when they fought it was exhilarating. No one fought like that with him since Peter had killed most of the crew. Stiles was graceful, powerful and smart. He easily saw Derek’s weakness with the high-pitched sound and had overtaken him. When they fell his senses were surrounded by Stiles, his pulse, his body, his smell. He had not even realized he had brought Stiles closer to himself to smell more. The sweat on his body had only enhanced his smell in a way that was raw and pure.

He couldn’t really pinpoint the smell of Stiles - apples, cinnamon, safety, _home._ He just wanted to bury his nose in the crook of Stiles neck and breathe him in forever. He could feel his nails growing as he gripped Stiles’s tighter and it was only when Scott had cleared his throat had Derek realized what he was doing. It seemed the same for Stiles, who had abruptly gotten up and ran into the safety of his room.

Derek stood up to face his pack, most of them who had a look of disbelief on their faces. “Please tell me you lost on purpose, and if you did, that was a total dick move. I like my dessert.” Jackson said.

Derek shook his head. “That’s the thing, I didn’t.” Everyone was stunned except for Scott who was grinning happily.

“Wait, Scott, did you already know Stiles was going to win?” Danny asks.

Scott just tilts his head to the side like he’s confused before saying. “Yea, of course, he’s been training with swords, like forever. Everyone used to call him a prodigy and stuff. And I figured, if he was that good when he was seven, he must be amazing now.” He grinned.

“What about Erica then?” Isaac questioned.

“I always vote for a pretty face. And anyways if I lost my dessert I’d just take some from Boyd anyways, so I wouldn’t lose anything, really. But what I’m interested in is Derek’s reaction to Stiles.” She said with a leer.

All eyes were back on Derek. He crossed his arms across his chest. “It was nothing, training is done early for today, I’m going to my room.” He said before leaving the rest of his crew. None of them dared to mention the little bleep in Derek’s heartbeat.

Derek rushed into his room and buried his face into his pillow, which didn’t help him forget about Stiles. It still smelt of him from yesterday and breathing the smell in sent his body in cold shivers. ‘What have I gotten myself into.’ Derek thought before he closed his eyes, welcoming sleep.

***

John, Lydia, and Allison were in the main conference room, sitting around maps of the neighbouring towns around them. They were starting to lose hope. It had already been a week since Stiles kidnapping and although none of them wanted to believe it, they figured he was probably dead.

“From what I understand, the ship must’ve left around 10, or else we should’ve seen their ship when Ally told us about Stiles, or someone from the outer ports would have seen the ship.” Lydia said. “They probably left from the West entrance. During the market rush no one would pay attention to random people within the town.” She said circling the area with red pen.

“And Stiles always walks around the west side.  It would be an easy access point for them.” John had to admit Lydia was most likely right. The town is usually busy around ten with the merchants rushing into the main square, and parents trying to organize their children. It had always been the reason Stiles had loved to go there. It was always full of life.

“My dad and I are pretty sure it was the Hales that took Stiles. They are the only group of pirates that had ever broken into our defenses in the past. It is not an easy feat to break into our town.” Allison said. It was clear that Allison was trying to comfort John a bit by reassuring him that regular pirates would not be able to break into town, but how great could the defenses be if they were broken into twice, especially by the same group of people. John still smiled warily in her direction as thanks.

“I swear if we ever find these guys, I will personally gut each and every one of them and throw them into the ocean. If they have hurt Stiles in any way, no one will be able to find their body.” Lydia said, her nails dug into the side of the table. Looking at her now, John could see she was probably as worn out as he was. Although her hair and clothes were in a state of perfection, there were evident bags under her eyes and her skin was paler than normal. Her nails that were painted flawlessly had chips and recently it barely seemed like she cared enough to apply any makeup on. Allison was similar, she also had shadows under her eyes but unlike Lydia, hers were more noticeable. She smiled less often and when she did it rarely reached her eyes. John wondered how he started to look to other people.

“Speaking of your father, where is he?”

“Oh, my dad was saying he was going to join us later because he had someone to meet. He said he’d be able to help us find Stiles.” The words ‘if he’s still alive’ remained unsaid but the three of them knew it was there.

The door to the room opened showing the two figures. Chris stayed in the front and behind him was a man wearing a naval uniform and seemed to have a permanent smirk painted on his face.

“John, I apologize for being late, but this is one of the officers in the neighbouring towns. They’ve been searching for the Hales for the longest time and they thought it would be best if we all worked together to find them and your son.” John shook his head in understanding; the Hales were famous and had gained quite the reputation in the last fifteen years when there was rumours of a new captain taking over the ship. If you found the Hales, you would be instantly promoted and set for life.

John stuck out his hand to greet him. “Nice to meet you, my name is John.”

“The pleasure is all mine, and I do hope we will be able to work well for our time together.” The man took John’s hand in his and although he had every reason to trust this man something told him to stay away.

“My name is Peter.” He grinned.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yea...so he's back already


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles woke up feeling completely rested. It was something that hadn’t happened ever since his mother died. _I’m definitely going to steal this bed now._ Stiles thought to himself. He had no idea what time it was; he was pretty sure it was early in the morning but it couldn’t have been before breakfast or else Scott or Isaac would’ve woken him up. It was difficult to tell in his room, the windows were barely large enough to allow a great deal of sunlight to filter in and he’d never been able to judge time well unlike Allison and Lydia.

Groaning, he got out of from under the covers to pick up his shirt. His shirt which had rip marks on the sides. _Weird._ Stiles thought. The cuts weren’t deep, but it was clear the fabric had been ripped by something. Something that Stiles wasn’t sure he wanted to find out. He didn’t remember seeing it before he went to bed but he had other things on his mind then.

Stiles had two choices now. He could either stay inside his room and wait for someone to call him for breakfast where he would then request for a shirt, or he’s walking out of his room shirtless. Running his fingers across markings across his sides, he decided the first idea was more favourable. He threw his shirt to the side of his room and buried himself under the sheets. More sleep never hurt anyone…

The sound of knocking woke Stiles up, but the voice that followed the knocking was neither Scott nor Isaac, but Derek.

“Breakfast.” He grunted and Stiles could already hear the retreating footsteps. Stiles rushed out of the bed, almost getting tangled in the sheets and falling to the ground with them.

“Derek, wait, I need a shirt.” He said before opening the door an inch and peaking outside. However, when he looked into the hall, no one was there but there was a folded grey shirt laying on the ground by the door.

“Weird.” Stiles muttered to himself. He slipped the shirt through the little opening of the door and then shut it. The material was soft in is hand, and it definitely looked warm. Stiles shrugged it on. It was a little large on him; the sleeves were loose and stretched down to his palms and the bottom fell a little farther than the rest of his shirts. He wasn’t drowning in it but it wasn’t a perfect fit _. The shirt was probably Scott’s because who else would lend me their shirt. Derek, especially, would not lend me one. The guy hates my guts._ Stiles thought.

Stiles rushed to the dining room. If he was a little bit late he was going to get all the leftovers and Stiles was pretty sure no normal person ate as much as they did.

When Stiles walked into the dining room, everyone’s eyes latched onto him.

“Uh, good morning.” He said. Everyone said good morning back, except for Erica who was smirking between him and Derek. _Totally not weird._ Stiles thought.

The only seat open this time was to the right of Derek. He always sat at the head of the table and while the rest of the crew shifted their seats, no one dared to sit on Derek’s spot. Usually Boyd sat beside Derek but seeing it was the only spot left, Stiles would have to suffer. He just really hoped yesterday’s…awkward encounter was long forgotten. He definitely did not want to be reminded of that, especially being so close to Derek. Not that he had really anything to be ashamed of because Derek was hot and if he had wanted to get close and personal with Derek…well, that was his business.

The table was filled with a large arrangement of food: fish, eggs, smoked meat, fruits and some bread. Seeing how the food looked more…appetizing today, it meant Scott didn’t cook. He loved Scott and all but he should not be allowed anywhere near a kitchen. His first meal was certainly eventful and he hoped he never had to suffer through Scott’s food ever again.  

No one had touched their food; they never seemed to start until Derek took a bite. _Probably another weird pirate rule._ Stiles thought. The first time he had joined them in a meal he swore Isaac had growled at him when he picked up his fork before Derek. An actual growl.

Derek picked up his fork and began to place food on his plate, everyone else took that as their opportunity to get their own food and dug in. These moments were never his favourite. It was either he ended with all the crumbs at the bottom or his arm littered with scratches. It seemed today was a crumb day. On his plate was a bun, the tail of a fish, a small piece of smoked meat and more fruit then he needed. It was like they were allergic to fruit or something, none of them ever touched it, so Stiles always had a ton.

Don’t get him wrong, he was ecstatic he had a plate-full of fruit, the last time he had eaten an apple had to be two months ago when he bought it from the market, but he still wished he had more meat. He was a growing boy.

When he looked back down to his plate, he saw three extra pieces of meat that clearly weren’t there before. He was about to thank Scott but he was scarfing down his food, so it couldn’t have been him. The only person who was close enough to even put food anywhere near his plate without him noticing was Derek. And nope, it definitely could not be Derek. He made it quite clear that he did not like Stiles and he highly doubted that besting him in a duel in front of his crew helped. Stiles looked up at Derek, who had stopped eating. He was trying to look at anything but Stiles which only proved to him Derek had been the one to give him some food. He was thinking of ignoring it in favour of eating his food but Stiles mother had always told him it was rude not to thank someone when they gave you something.

Looking at his plate, Stiles muttered a soft ‘thanks.’ and started to eat. He swore he saw Derek smile but figured it was a trick of his eyes. Never in a million years will Derek ever smile at him. He was the son of his greatest enemy after all. But maybe it was hopefully thinking when he thought Derek was starting to like him… even just a little bit.

***

Peter woke to someone opening his door. He sat up, ready to welcome his visitor.

“Ah, Christopher, it has been a long time. What do I owe this unpleasant visit?”

“I’m here to make a trade.”

“Straight to the point as always, and I was hoping we could sit and have a longer conversation. Jail is certainly dull, especially when you have no one to share your cell with.”

Chris scowled at Peter. “We both know this isn’t really a jail, Peter. This was me paying you back a favour for saving my daughter. This house was the only thing that wasn’t tampered with by the navy.”

“Your daughter, Allison, if I remember correctly. How has she been doing recently? “

“Stop trying to change the subject.” He paused. “I need your help again.” The statement had perked Peter’s interest. It had been a long time since he had seen any life, and the first person he gets to talk to will be in his debt.

“Christopher, you more than anyone, should understand the inconvenience of making a deal with a pirate. But who am I to turn down a request.” Peter smirked.

 “My friend needs help finding his son and I would rather me making a deal with you then him coming himself. He’s already lost too much.” Chris stated. _Odd._ Peter thought. The job seemed too easy to have Chris coming to Peter. Being indebted to a pirate was like selling your soul, well, maybe just being indebted to Peter. Chris had already learned that the hard way.

“Okay, tell me about this boy.” Chris nodded his head.

“I’ll explain to you on the way, first we have to make you seem believable. Walking in with a pirate will get both of our asses in jail.”

And that was how Peter ended up in a naval uniform and working with the captain of the queen’s navy. All because his stupid nephew couldn’t grab the right person. He didn’t know whether to pity him for his stupidity or to thank him from getting him away from his secluded cabin.

Peter had heard stories about Captain Stilinski. He had, alone, captured five pirate crews and was known to win every dueling match run by the town for entertainment. But the man in front of him just looked so brittle and broken. Peter had remembered watching him for a period of time when he had scouted the Beacon Hill area. He had thought many times of taking the man’s son. Not only was he spectacular in fighting, he was young: something mouldable and always wanting to please. Not to mention the irony of the Captain’s son becoming a pirate.  He had tried, of course, but the boy had gotten away. Looking at Captain Stilinski now he thought it was a pity he didn’t successfully take Stiles all those years ago. Raiding towns would’ve been so much easier with him out of commission.

His introduction seemed to calm the members in the room slightly, except the red haired girl who only stared at him more intently. Allison clearly did not remember him, which worked in his favour, and the tales of ‘Peter Hale’ had long been forgotten due to his death so he had no worry about Captain Stilinski recognizing him.

Peter could not think his life could be any more perfect. He was not only given an inside job within the navy, where he could search through all of their archives and read into their future plans, but he given a way to find his nephew and take back what belonged to him. He deserved to be an alpha, more than Laura and definitely more than Derek. This time he would not be fooled, he would get rid of the current crew and make a whole new one. He already knew who his first member would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so we all got to admit, Boyd would TOTALLY be Derek's second. Like imagine all of the non-verbal conversations they'd have. They'd probably make a plan to escape solely with their eyebrows. I mean sure Scott a True Alpha and all but there totally had to have been some broship between Boyd and Derek going on behind the scenes.  
> -  
> I'm REALLY sorry this chapter is so late. School has been crap recently since exams are like in a month, so basically all our projects are pilled on with a whole bunch of tests. That's also the reason why the chapter is shorter than usual. Hopefully I'll post the next chapter this Thursday but no promises.


	5. Chapter 5

Stiles used to love thunderstorms. He used to curl up with his mom in his room and watch flashes of light brighten their room before fading away. It would be like a game. A burst of light came down and they counted when the thunder would follow. It wouldn’t even matter how late the storm started, Stiles would wake up his mom and they would watch the storm until Stiles fell asleep in her arms. Now, Stiles wasn’t so sure.

Thunderstorms on a ship were a bitch. The sea shook the ship causing half of their items to be launched somewhere in the room. If you were lucky, by the end of everything, nothing hit you. But Stiles can show you the amount of bruises he’s gotten just from the past hour. The worst thing would be he’s absolutely drenched two seconds after he exits the inside of the ship. It’s so much easier to enjoy a storm when he was inside and warm. When Stiles decided to help the crew with maintaining the ship, it was the least he could do, he was being fed and housed…even if he was kidnapped, he had no idea what he was getting himself into.

Stiles had to run back and forth to help lower the anchor, raise the sails and get any artillery inside that wasn’t already brought in by Boyd and Jackson. What was worse is that everyone seemed to _know_ it was going to storm and just conveniently forgot to tell Stiles. They had all rushed inside during different intervals of the day getting some sort of water-proof gear.  So while everyone was only soaked slightly, Stiles was dripping wet. Derek had deemed the ship to be as prepared as it would ever be and commanded everyone inside.

After two weeks of staying on the ship, he had become accustomed to living as a pirate. Recently he’s been listening more to Derek’s orders, although he still argues with him about certain opinions, and he’s joined them every afternoon during their trainings. (Stiles is still the undefeated champion of sword fighting).  Life as a pirate was like the freedom Stiles had always wanted. The freedom he only got a taste of whenever he snuck into town to look through the markets. He was starting to understand why Scott had stayed, he still wasn’t fully forgiven for forgetting his family but the longer Stiles stayed on the ship the longer it felt like home. He figured Scott felt the same.

When Stiles entered inside the ship he was shuffled into the dining room. It was the only room that had some sort of heating. Stiles was handed a new set of clothing and he changed into them immediately. He would’ve been more ashamed of his nudity but seeing how he’s seen everyone on this ship naked in the shower at least once makes him care little about changing in front of them. The shirt was the same material as the one he was first given. It was soft and warm, slowing his shivers down until they stopped completely.

The crew set up the room like a large bed. Everyone brought mats, pillows, blankets and sheets towards the centre of the room and arranged themselves around Derek. By the end of their arrangements everyone was touching everyone somewhere – their feet, hips, elbows, hands. _Like a puppy pile._ Stiles’s mind suggested and they were totally an adorable bunch of puppies. Stiles stood there awkwardly watching all of them. He was about to leave them to their little bonding moment and head off to his room when he sneezed, getting all of their attention onto him.

“Uh…I’m just going to go.” Stiles said. Immediately Scott had started to make this whining noise and again Stiles wondered how it was even possible for a person to make a noise like that. Everyone else had shifted uncomfortably and started to fidget as Stiles started to back away from them but none of them said a word.  Just as Stiles reached the door Derek spoke.

“Get in.”

And if that wasn’t the vaguest statement Stiles heard recently he didn’t know what was.

“Get in where?”

“Here.” He grunted. _So…they wanted him to join them in their mock puppy pile?_ Stiles wondered. He released his hand from the door and walked over to where all of them laid down. The only place he could see himself situated was near the end with Jackson and Danny or beside Scott, who just happened to be laying down beside Derek. Stiles started to move towards Jackson and Danny when Scott whined again. And god did that sound make Stiles feel like he had done something wrong. It sounded like he kicked a puppy. So, rather than spending the rest of the night feeling guilty, he walked towards Scott, tiptoed around bodies, trying not to step on anyone, and laid beside him.

Stiles had never been used to touch, his mother and father used to hug him but after Claudia had passed, touch between the Stilinski men became fewer and farther in between. But everyone on the ship was fairly tactile and he had started to become used to the soft touches everyone had been giving him these last few days so when he laid down beside Scott he melted into the touches. None of them ever felt sexual, they just gave him a sense of belonging.

The crew rearranged themselves so they reach for Stiles in some way. He could feel Isaac’s foot, Erica and Boyd’s arms, Jackson’s fingers, Danny’s leg, Scott’s body and Derek’s arm which had rested around his front. Surrounded by the warmth of the crew, Stiles closed his eyes and fell asleep to the sound of thunder and pouring rain.

_Maybe storms weren’t that bad after all._

_***_

Derek had no idea what he was doing. Stiles was supposed to be a hostage and yet he was situating himself into his pack like he always belonged there. He knows it should have bugged him, but every time he saw Stiles training with his betas his wolf always felt content.

Whenever Stiles argued with Derek about a training regime or where to sail, he never felt threatened. Sure, it felt like a fight but it never felt like he was challenging Derek as an alpha. Hell, the kid didn’t even know Derek was a werewolf, or anyone else in the crew was one for that matter. He just let his mouth run off about how Derek could train his betas better, or random things that popped into his mind and everyone hung to his every word.

 Overall, Derek thought Stiles was horrible person to have on the ship. He had to keep wearing Derek’s clothing because he didn’t have any spares and he may have clawed through Stiles’s original one. The looks from his pack alone were embarrassing enough, but the way Stiles smelt right when his scent combined with Derek’s was like a constant reminder that his wolf acutally LIKED Stiles.

He also had to give some of his share of food to Stiles because he could never get enough himself. Stiles was skinny already and without food Derek was afraid he’d starve on the ship. Derek had tried to convince himself so many times he was only giving him food because of Scott. He probably wouldn’t want to see his best friend starve. But every time he placed food on his plate his goddamn wolf thought it was providing for its _mate._  And no, Stiles is not, and will never be his mate.

The absolute worst thing about Stiles being on the ship was the fact that all his betas listened to Stiles. They were becoming closer than ever in his company and he was pretty sure last week he saw Jackson having a conversation with Erica and they didn’t even look like they were going to kill each other by the end of it. Derek had tried for YEARS to help them get along, but Jackson had only taken to Danny and Isaac. And it only took a week for Stiles to get them to have a full conversation. All he did was have Jackson and Erica pair up when they were sparing and now they were like old friends. He was pretty sure he heard them trading blackmail about the other crew members yesterday.

Even though he hates to admit it, Stiles felt like the missing piece that the pack needed. And just his luck, the person they needed the most probably hated them the most. Derek had noticed Stiles started to warm up to them a bit, allowing them to scent mark him rather than dodging their touches, but every once and a while Stiles would look out to the sea and stare. If Derek didn’t know any better he would just think he was admiring the view but he could smell the sour and bitter emotions coming from Stiles. He knew Stiles still detested them.

So, when Derek had told Stiles to join their pack bonding session, he had no idea what he was thinking. It didn’t help that when Stiles was going to leave everyone, including his own wolf, started to whine.

“Get in.” he said.

“Get in where?” Stiles asked.

“Here.” He grunted out. Every logical part of his mind told him not to get close to Stiles. He would leave eventually and may get them killed or captured before then. Keeping him far away from everyone would be better but he didn’t really care. He didn’t care that Stiles might leave him because right now he wanted to take in every moment before Stiles would leave them. He knew it would happen eventually.

When he felt Stiles lay down beside him, he had to stop every part of his body from latching onto him. He just wanted to hold the boy close and never let him go because for the first time since Peter had killed his family, he felt whole. Surrounded by his pack, Derek fell asleep to the sound of Stiles heartbeat.

***

Peter had gotten used to working with the navy. It was definitely more interesting than living in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, especially when the company was so… _interesting._

Chris and John were a little stale. Chris had always been one to follow every rule by the book, with the exception of requesting Peter’s help, and John was too focused on finding his son to really look at anything around him. Although he was more willing to cut corners, John preferred to stay on the moral side of everything.

It was the younger generation he was interested in. Allison had this underlying fire; he could feel it in her, like she was ready to kill anyone who would dare to hurt anyone precious to her. She would be willing to shoot first and ask questions later. Peter could only think of the ways he could mold her into a weapon. However, it was Lydia who had truly perked his interest. She was cunning, resourceful and smart. She continued to watch him with distrust even after John and Allison had accepted him into their little group.

Peter only thought it was a shame that he didn’t take these two. It seemed he left the more valuable members untouched, first Stiles and now these two.

Maybe that is why Peter failed, it was because he had failed to accumulate the right pack members. However, it will all change this time, he was given a second chance after all.

Peter was lost in his own thoughts when Lydia walked up to him.

“I know who you are.”

Peter looked up at her inquisitively. “And do tell, my dear, who am I?”

“Peter Hale.” She said with clear distain on her face.

“Hmm, is this one of those moments where I should say ‘now that you know my secret, I have to kill you’ because I’ve never been too sure when to use that phrase.” He said sardonically.

Lydia stared at him levelly. Peter could already imagine her as a wolf, she’d be strong and a definite leader.

“I’m not going to tell anybody. Not yet at least.” She stated.

“And why would you do that?”

“Because we need your help to find Stiles. I could care less who you are if you can bring him back to us, but just remember I am watching you. One misstep and I promise I’ll be leading the mission to haul you into a jail cell, where you’ll rot in for the rest of your life.”

Peter was amused, he knew she must know all of the stories, because if she was aware of his identity she knew who was Captain of the Hale pirates after Laura had died, and she was still threatening him. So protective of her friends and ready to destroy any threats at its roots. Definitely a perfect wolf.

Peter walked closer to her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry, I’ve made a deal to bring him back. So Stiles will be returned to you and you all can live your lives as mundane as possible.”

She swatted his hand of her arm and turned on her heels to walk away. “Good.” was the last thing she said before she exited the room.

_His new pack would definitely be an interesting bunch._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay...so i was really tempted to have Peter respond with "say it, say it out loud" when Lydia said "I know who you are." but...i contained myself.  
> I'm sorry the chapters have haven't had much action recently but I promise next chapter there will be something :D  
> Hopefully see you next week. My art/writing tumblr is [ here ](http://nyxiaa-doodles.tumblr.com/)


	6. Chapter 6

Stiles woke up feeling cold. It was a weird feeling, especially since the last few days he had been surrounded by the thick covers of his room. He remembered feeling even warmer yesterday when he was surrounded by everyone. Stiles rubbed his eyes, and rolled to his stomach, making contact with plush blankets instead of Scott like he expected. He groaned and opened his eyes, rubbing at them in attempt to wake himself up.

The room was empty. The blankets that held everyone just the night before only surrounded Stiles now. Stiles shoved the blankets off and moved to sit up. Having a better look at his surroundings he noticed how weird things were. The pillows and blankets, minus the ones Stiles slept on, were haphazardly scattered across the dining room. There was no lively chatter in the kitchen where different crew members would work on breakfast and there was definitely no one waiting in the dining room with him. It was oddly…silent.

Stiles figured they were outside doing morning training and they didn’t want to wake him up as a ‘thank you’ for helping the ship get prepared for the storm. But that was just wishful thinking on his part.

The sunlight filtering in the small port hole told him that the storm was definitely over, and as much as he loved storms, he really wanted to get under the sun. He exited to dining room to look around for everyone else.

The halls of the ship were empty as Stiles walked through them which only fueled Stiles’s thought of the crew training while he slept. But when he went into the storage room to get a mat for himself he found it to be completely full. The soft covering that usually lined the ship deck were still stacked against the walls and the mats that Stiles would regularly use for stretching were lined against the corner of the room. Even the mass amount of weights Boyd and Derek used were still in their boxes.

 _So not training then._ Stiles thought.

He closed the door quietly and went to look through the other rooms. It was a little invasive of him but Stiles was starting to freak out about where they were. The way the dining room was left seemed like they all went somewhere in a hurry and that was never a good sign from his experience. Every room that he opened was empty. The beds didn’t even look like they had been touched for a while, so it was clear they didn’t go back to their individual rooms after Stiles went to sleep, but with every door he opened the more anxious he got.

He started to become frantic, it had always been a bad habit of his after he lost his mother. It only got worse after Scott had been kidnapped. Always jumping straight to the worst conclusions and jumping head first into problems without knowing what he was really facing. The last door to open was the one leading to the deck. Through the door, he could head the shuffling of feet and muffled voices and he let a sigh of relief. They were alright. Stiles placed his hand to the knob and turned.

He opened the door to a freaking battle. It took a while for his eyes to adjust to the sun but it was clear the crew was fighting with another group of pirates. Stiles understood now that the voices he heard before were actually the screams of the crews as their members fought.

It was a little weird seeing everyone using the moves Derek taught them in action. He could see Erica flipping someone off the ship, while Isaac and Scott teamed together and took down five men, without any weapons. It was clear who the winning side was, especially with the amount of unconscious, bloody bodies by the side of the ship. His eyes scanned the deck, it was clear that everyone was too busy fighting to even notice him, and his sight landed on Derek.

If there was one word for Derek’s fighting Stiles, it would be graceful. Stiles’s fighting was definitely more calculated than anything but the way Derek moved looked like a dance. His moves were fluent and strong. Derek was fighting to protect rather than provide ruthless violence. What was weird though was everyone Derek fought with had blade marks, but no one was fighting with swords…not even the other crew. What was even weirder was the fact there was blood on everyone’s clothing and faces but it didn’t seem like they were cut anywhere.

“Stiles!” Someone screamed.

He broke out of his trance to see a knife whirl past his face and land by the wall beside him.

“Holy shit, I was about to become a skewer.” Stiles muttered to himself.

“Stiles, get back inside!” He knew now that the voice belonged to Derek. The man was staring at him, open and defenselessly, like he was really hoping this wouldn’t be a time Stiles went against his word. Stiles was not one to run away but the look Derek was giving him was too much. It made him feel like something more than a possession to have an edge over the navy with.

He was about to turn around and go back inside when someone grabbed his arm and pulled him against their chest. He felt five little pinpricks on the side of his neck making him stay in place. The thing was Stiles really enjoyed living and getting his throat slit was not the way he wanted to go.

The man behind him tsked. “The great Captain Hale has taken a human onto his ship. I can’t wait to tell Duke, he must be a great slave for you to still have him like this.”

From where he was standing he swore he heard Derek growl. “Uh…last time I checked I’m pretty sure we’re all human here. Unless you’re part fish or something. Totally not judging if that’s the case though. I used to think I had magic when I was younger, even tried turning my rock into a frog once. Just saying though, totally not judging if you’re having an identity crisis.”

The man laughed behind him. “Oh this is gold Hale, he doesn’t _know_. You haven’t told him about us yet. I wonder what you would do if I bit him now. Make him into one of us.”

“No thanks, not really into biting.” Stiles said. He had to think of a plan now. It was easy enough to stall them with conversation but Stiles was clearly missing out on something, something big. If he could just get to the knife, he could stab the man and start fighting, but he’d need a distraction first.

Derek growled louder, the sound seemed to rumble the ship and everyone besides Stiles, and his captor to cower.

“Aiden, let him go.” _Oh shit._ Stiles thought. Not only was he held hostage, again he might add, but it was by a member of the Alphas. His dad had told him about Ethan and Aiden, the twins that always took towns through both sides, destroying everything until they reached each other in the middle. _How was this his life._

Derek started to run toward Aiden but was before he got close Aiden threw a knife at Derek and it lodged itself into Derek’s stomach.

“Derek!” Stiles screamed. Derek staggered until he reached the side of the ship and leaned on the side.

“Wolfbane bites like a bitch, doesn’t it.” Aiden mocked. Stiles took that as his opportunity to put his plan into action

“I don’t know, why don’t you see for yourself.” Stiles reached for the knife lodged into the wood and stabbed it in Aiden’s leg. He howled in pain and let go of Stiles. He could feel some blood run down the side of his neck where Aiden had placed his weapon but the cuts didn’t seem that deep. He used the blade to slash across Aiden’s chest in quick succession before running towards Derek. The blade was covered in black blood but he put that to the back of his mind. There were more important things to do at the moment.

“You bitch!” Aiden yelled, before he resumed coughing the same black substance that was on his knife. Stiles didn’t even bother turning back, there was no way Aiden was strong enough to move. Whatever was on their weapons packed a punch. With every step, Derek seemed to get weaker and weaker until he lost his grip on the railing and tipped off the side of the boat. He landed in the water with a loud splash, the water engulfing his body until Stiles could no longer see him.

“Fuck.” Stiles threw the knife to the side and jumped in after him. The water stung his eyes, and his clothes made it hard to move around in the water. He knew it was a bad idea but he jumped in anyways. _What was I thinking._

Stiles caught sight of Derek. The man was unconscious now, the lack of oxygen only seemed to worsen the effect of the poison. Stiles tried to push his body towards Derek but his clothes were dragging the water too much and his lungs were screaming at him for air. _He’s so close, just a little further._ Stiles thought. Stiles’s fingers latched onto Derek’s and he kicked them up to the surface. His first breath of air burned his lungs like it was something that didn’t belong but soon faded away into cool relief. He was alive and so was Derek, as long as they stayed above water.  

Treading in water was not an easy feat fully clothed, especially while carrying a man that was probably twice his weight. If he were to slow down his kicks for a second the water would engulf them again but every muscle in his body screamed for him to stop. Derek, at the moment, was a dead weight. He was pale and his breaths came in shallow huffs, but he was alive.

“Come on Derek, wake up I need your help a little bit.”

Stiles knew there was no way to get back to the ship without Derek’s help, or someone on the ship coming to get them. But the chances of them still battling Aiden’s crew were high, so he had to wait. He just hoped they would get to them in time, because no matter how willing he was to jump off the boat a few weeks ago, he certainly didn’t feeling like drowning now. The only thing he could do now was keep treading and hope that he could last until Scott got to him.

“If I drown, you bet your ass I’m gonna haunt everyone on damn your ship.” Stiles mumbled at Derek.

He was exhausted. The water had started to reach the tip of his chin and every kick made his legs burn. The thought of dropping Derek had passed through his head many, many times. In fact, he had no idea why he was still holding him up but a small part of him reminded him that it was because his mom would be disappointed if he let Derek go. Pirates be damned, Claudia believed every life had a purpose and was worth something.

The water started to reach the tip of his lip. He could taste the sharp taste of salt on his bottom lip, a constant reminded that his legs might give out on him any second. And when they do, he will drown. There was no sign of Derek waking up; he seemed to be getting worse. His skin was pale, like there was no warm blood flowing through it. He was also burning, even through the cold water Stiles could feel the heat coming off of Derek. If they didn’t get help soon, Derek was going to succumb to the poison before the waters could suffocate him.

With every kick Stiles gave, the weaker he got. The water was rising quicker now – lips, nose, eyes. He tilted his head up for the small hope of stretching past the water but his lips only reached the top layer. That was the funny thing about life, you never know when you’ll take you last breath, and it was clear Stiles already took his.

They both sank deeper into the waters, Derek close to Stiles. _At least I tried my best and didn’t let him go. Sorry I couldn’t say bye, dad._ Stiles thought bitterly.

His lungs screamed at him, begging for air, no matter how many times he thought to himself that he had to hold on. To wait for Scott, or anybody really. But it was becoming too much, the screams of his lungs started to tear into his mind. He was too tired, too exhausted to move. He closed his eyes and finally listened to his lungs.

He breathed in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is late again. I'll try my best to get the regular schedule back, but that might not happen until the end of June. Hopefully see you next week. :)


	7. Chapter 7

Stiles felt like he was floating. It was like his mind was separated from his body. The feeling wasn’t pleasant but it also wasn’t horrible. If this was death, Stiles didn’t think he would mind it much. Well, it would be a lot more pleasant if everything wasn’t so loud. There was a constant stream of words and voices that wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t let Stiles have peace and quiet for once. Stiles shifted in annoyance and groaned. Someone grab his shoulders was something he did not expect feeling. _Not dead then, I guess._

This time he felt someone press against his chest in rhythmic patterns. _CPR, of course because he almost drowned._ He just really hoped Scott or anyone else for that matter wouldn’t be giving him mouth to mouth. He would not like to have his first kiss when he was unconscious and especially not with Scott. He loved the dude, but just not in that way.

The CPR seemed to do the trick as Stiles spat out water. Which was totally disgusting, if Stiles may add, it was like spitting out watery vomit – 1 out of 10, definitely would not like to do again. When Stiles breathed in this time, water did not fill his lungs only the cool relief of oxygen. _Looks like Stiles Stilinski gets to live through another day._ He thought.

Breathing in was easy, opening his eyes was a totally different level of difficulty. His eyes felt like they were glued shut, any attempt of opening them had him hastily shutting them due to the harsh sunlight. The salt water irritated his eyes to no end and he was pretty sure that while the salt had dried them up, the sun would probably burn them out of their socket. A feeling he would not like to become acquainted with. But it had to be done sooner or later, so he opened his eyes. Now, if opening them slightly burned, opening them fully was hell. He had to force himself to keep them open rather than shutting them again, there was no point in taking one step forward and two steps back.

Which seemed to remind him the reason he was in this whole predicament in the first place…Derek. He turned his head slowly to both sides looking for the man he had nearly drowned for, but he was not laying down anywhere beside him…he was standing above him. The only thing Stiles could think of was ‘asshole’ because he was seriously jealous of the man’s recovery time. He looked like shit when Stiles was keeping them both afloat, and now the only person who looked like shit was Stiles.

“You so owe me.” Were the first words that came out of Stiles’s mouth. The words were choked off, his throat making them sound more of a croak then anything. For everyone else, the words provided relief. In the next second he was surrounded by warm bodies as he was hugged all around. Stiles would be lying if he hadn’t felt relieved to see Derek alive and well. Stiles seriously hoped he wasn’t obtaining Stockholm syndrome, he’s heard stories of people obtaining it before and he really didn’t want to join that list.

While everyone hugged Stiles, Derek stayed standing, just watching the scene below him but he looked like he was restraining himself from jumping in. It was weird, but definitely an improvement from their ‘reluctant acquaintances’ relationship. If acquaintances was even a word you could use for someone who kidnapped you, frequently fed you, clothed you and seemed to listen to your advice.

Scott wouldn’t let him go for the rest of the day, preferring to stay close to him as they did their daily chores. It was fine at first, but it was starting to get annoying. He was acting like Stiles was going to jump off the ship and almost drown, _again,_ like the first time wasn’t horrible enough. Also, Scott wasn’t explaining _anything_.

There were many things on Stiles mind. One being why Derek seemed to be so sick and bounce back so quickly and two being why members of the freaking Alphas were trying to kill them. Because of course Stiles wasn’t blind, they were definitely related. And those were only touching the surface of all the question Stiles wanted to ask; he had been taking into account anything that was weird while staying with the Hales. He had a whole list of weird things written down , none of which could be explained by anything humanly possible. His current theory was magic cult, and he seriously wished it wasn’t that. Scotty was too good of a person to be suckered into a cult.

Every time he had tried to prod Scott for information he would deter the conversation elsewhere, such as asking how his mom was doing, or about the friends Stiles had made while he was gone. Both of which would not regularly distract Stiles but add in Scott’s puppy eyes and he was caught. He really needed to develop some sort of immunity to Scott’s puppy dog look, because it seemed like Isaac was taking pointers from him, and one person manipulating him was enough, he didn’t need two.

Everyone also started to act oddly around him. They all listened to him a lot more. Like Stiles may have asked _politely_ for Erica and Jackson to stop arguing because the headache that came with his almost death experience was getting worse with their yelling, they just stopped. In fact, they looked ashamed. Sure, they had listened to him before, but that was more for finding a better way to train while having a way to subtly annoy Derek. This was full on obedience, something he had only seen them do for Derek, and it was getting weird. He brushed it off as being thankful for saving their captain but the shocked look Derek gave when he saw them stop abruptly made him think it was something more.

So, being set on edge by Scott’s overbearing presence and the ever-growing stream of questions led him to where he was now, in Derek’s bedroom.

The room looked like he remembered it from his first night – broken and untouched. It seemed like Derek didn’t even want to attempt to fix the walls, just leave them in all their ruined glory. The knife markings were getting less creepy at least, but they added to his curiosity. No one on the ship but Stiles seemed to be fond of wielding weapons, so either it was done by someone from the previous Hale crew, or it wasn’t done by a knife. The bed still didn’t look like it was slept in, maybe it had been once or twice in the span of a month, but it didn’t feel like something that belonged to anyone. It seemed like a test product at the selling market, something there more for appearances sake. The walls were still bare, and there was this constant feeling of emptiness that, without Scott, made Stiles feel uncomfortable.

Stiles knew that Derek wouldn’t get to his room anytime soon, but it’s been a ridiculous amount of time. He’s counted every scratch mark on the walls six times. (There were 89 of them). He’s almost fallen asleep twice, and he’s very close of giving up for the day and just sleeping the rest of the night away.

Honestly, it was no better than being stuck inside his room at home.

After counting the scratches three more times, he gives up. He probably wasted three hours just waiting. He wanted his questions answered but waiting any longer would be a whole new level of desperation.

Seeing how it was no longer light out, Stiles just made his way to his room. After today’s events he thinks he deserved many, many hours of undisturbed sleep. He walked with ease through the halls and reached his room. His brain was already in the process of shutting down, getting ready to sleep in the magnificent bed he was lent. He was still planning of a way to take that bed with him when he escaped. It was totally Stiles Stilinski property now. But when he entered the room, he realized it wasn’t empty.

On his bed was Derek fricken Hale, just snoozing away like he had no idea Stiles was waiting for him in his room for the _last three hours._ Nope, the man was fully unconscious, wrapped around Stiles’s blanket and his face shoved in his pillow – which didn’t seem like the most comfortable sleeping position in his opinion.  

Stiles walked up to the edge of the bed and prodded Derek’s figure with his finger. “Derek, what the hell are you doing here?” The man groaned and buried himself further into Stiles’s sheets. “Come on, dude, I have sleep I need to do, and questions to ask. Which could totally be held off till tomorrow if you’d just let me sleep.” He whined.

But nothing. No reaction at all.

“Okay, so it’s come to this.” Stiles said, rubbing his hands together. He jumped onto the bed and pushed at Derek’s body in attempt to roll him off the bed but the only thing that happened was Stiles almost falling off of the bed.

“Ugh, fine, if you find me asleep in your bed tomorrow, remember this is totally your fault.” He said and moved to get off when a hand caught his wrist. Stiles, for the second time today, found himself pressed flush against a man’s chest. At least this time didn’t have his worrying about his life though.

“Der-“ he stopped suddenly when he sees the other man’s eyes. They were blood red, the colour seemed to bleed through his irises, and Stiles doesn’t know if the shiver that ran through him was due to excitement or fear. Even though Derek was looking at him, it didn’t seem like he was looking _at_ him, more of looking but not seeing. But he seemed sort of pleased that Stiles was in his arms. Something that seriously confused Stiles.

“What the hell is up with your eyes.” He found himself saying. The amount of questions he has had just doubled, and honestly that whole vampire theory that he was having just bumped itself higher than magical cult.

Derek didn’t say anything though, just pulled Stiles in tighter to his body and rested his face in the crook of Stiles neck. It wasn’t very comfortable for Stiles, not only was he being squished by a man nearly twice his weight, but it was getting unbearably hot. Derek was like a furnace, and Stiles rarely slept with a shirt on. The extra warmth from his shirt and Derek was getting too much for him.

“Sleep” Derek said, voice muffled as he spoke against Stiles’s shoulder.

“Nope, no sleep until you answer all my questions.” Derek growled. “Fine, fine, sleep, sleep is good. But you’re totally answering all my questions tomorrow. No take backs.”

Derek seemed content with that answer and Stiles was pretty sure he was hearing Derek make a similar noise to a purr. Was that even possible for humans? Vampires? Magical cult followers?

It didn’t matter though, he’d have his answers tomorrow. Now, he just had to sleep, which didn’t seem like such a bad thing to do, at the moment.

***

To say Peter was surprised when the letter came in was an understatement. How Deucalion had obtained the information of his ‘revival’, he had no clue. He figured Deucalion had spies within the navy like he had, once upon a time. Maybe his spies moved onto selling Deucalion information after his death, they clearly had remembered Peter’s face. But then again he wasn’t one to be forgotten. What was really interesting was the information within the letter.

He wanted help.

Turns out his nephew had a nasty run in with one of the Alphas, leaving one of them heavily wounded, and they wanted him eliminated. Deucalion and him always had a small pact when he was captain, as long as he didn’t bug them, they didn’t bug him. Now, he wanted Derek to either join his crew or die. More preference on the latter, though.

Deucalion wanted them to work together. It was a win-win situation, Peter would become an alpha again and Deucalion would be rid of Derek. He was too much of a goody two shoes for many people’s taste. Never raiding towns, protecting people from other supernatural creatures gone bad. He simply didn’t like the taste of what true pirate life had to offer.

What really perked his interest was the details of a human boy, one that had bested Aiden in battle. Peter could see the hunger within his words, understood it himself. He had felt it too when he laid eyes on the boy all those years ago. The words spoke of him being a perfect wolf, a loyal, strong beta that would be perfect under either of their wings. And Peter couldn’t help but agree.

Peter picked up a pen and a piece of paper and started to write his reply. This was only beginning and this time he would end up victorious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a day late and I'm really sorry.  
> Hopefully see you next week.


	8. Chapter 8

Stiles woke up to a knock on the door followed by pans dropping on the floor. It definitely had to be the worst wake-up call he’s ever had, but he’s pretty sure he needed it this time. He was so ready just to snuggle back into his pillow and enjoy the heat it was letting off. Except…pillows don’t give off heat. Stiles opened his eyes and found Derek’s face only inches from his. He looked calmer in his sleep, the wrinkles above his brow were almost non-existent and he had a soft smile on his face, something that Stiles had never seen before. It was something that was private and intimate and he wasn’t sure if he was meant to see it. He tried to break away from Derek’s body but the arm around his waist pulled him closer.

“Mine.” Derek whispered into his throat.

The words were followed by a squeal and multiple whispers. Clearly most of the crew was now at Stiles’s door, but Derek’s body was currently covering his view to see if his suspicions were correct.

“Dude, you gotta get up.” Stiles whined. Derek made no response to wake up; he only pulled Stiles in tighter. “Derek, if you keep squishing me, I promise I will pee on you, and we both don’t want that to happen. It’s going to be messy and no one likes the smell of pee.” And Stiles was not kidding, the pressure Derek was putting on his stomach was not helping the fact he had to pee, badly if he may add.

“Derek, get up.” Scott said. _Thank god,_ Stiles thought _, Scott to the rescue._ Well almost to the rescue, because as soon as Scott came close, Derek started to growl at him. Like full on beast-man growl. Everyone seemed to back off at the sound, except for Erica who’s shrill laughter rang through the small space. Stiles wiggled his arm out from underneath his body and flicked Derek in the nose. “Get up, dude, I have to pee and you promised me answers.” The response he received was Derek scrunching up his nose. He flicked him in the nose again and Derek’s eyes finally fluttered open.

The look on Derek’s face was almost hysterical when he realized not only where he was, but who he was gripping onto. “Welcome to the world of the living, now please let me go before I pee.”

Derek let go like Stiles burned, and he wasn’t sure if he should be thankful or offended. He was pushing towards the latter.

 Stiles jumped out of the bed and made his way to the bathroom, leaving a confused Derek in his bed. “You better still be there when I come back.” Stiles yelled from behind him and he could barely make out the crew laughing as he ran through the hallways.

When he came back, he was pleasantly surprised to see Derek still there. However, so was the rest of the crew. Everyone was trying to squeeze into Stiles’s bed, and he was pretty sure it would not be able to take all of their weight. Stiles still had hopes of taking that bed back home with him; he definitely did not want it to break before then.

“Okay, so I have like a ton of questions, and I’m really hoping you guys answer all of them because this is kinda getting ridiculous, and honestly the mystery of all of this is killing me and-“

“We’re werewolves.” Derek cut Stiles’s rambling short.

“Wait, what?” Okay, so Stiles may have had vampires and magical cult as possibilities for everything but that didn’t mean he actually thought it was _true._

“We’re werewolves.” Derek repeated. Everyone turned to Stiles and flashed their eyes at the same time and he had to admit that was creepy and cool at the same time.

“So….what you’re telling me is that all of you guys are werewolves, and” he pointed to Derek, “you are like head honcho werewolf.”

“It’s called an alpha.” Scott happily supplied.

“Okay, alpha, then. And could you explain how all of you became…werewolves.”  The word felt odd on his tongue, but it made sense…at least Stiles had answers to the knife markings – claws, and the whole super healing abilities.

“Well, he’s taking it better than I thought he would.” Jackson said.

“Naw, he’s totally freaking out, he’s just doing it internally.” Scott replied and he was completely right, it seemed like all the years apart didn’t stop Scott from understanding Stiles.

“Derek was born a werewolf, most of the Hale’s were, and we on the other hand, were all bitten.” Danny said and Derek nodded his head to reaffirm his statement.

“Being bitten is making someone part of the pack, so for us you become part of a crew.”

“Wait… so you mean when Aiden was talking about biting, he was trying to force me into his pack?” Stiles shivered at the thought. He would definitely not want to spend significant amount of time with that man, especially not be part of his crew. Red started to bleed into Derek’s eyes when he said the word ‘yes.’

“The bite should be a gift, something that is asked and both parties agree on, it is not something to be forced.” Derek continued.

“Then what about Peter?” The words were barely above a whisper. It made sense now that he thought about it, the ‘animal attacks’ and the kidnapped children that weren’t able to leave after being taken by Peter. He was their alpha. Stiles subconsciously ran his fingers across his side, feeling the puckered skin there.

“Peter…wasn’t right. He wanted a pack that was capable and that he could control, but that’s not what pack is.”

“Is that why you killed him?”

“Yes.” The words were followed by empty silence. Stiles let out a deep sigh.

“Okay, I understand, I guess.” He gave a small smile. “In the end you guys are still you. And let me say, werewolves are totally cooler than vampires.”

The tension seemed to break and Stiles found himself with an armful of Scott. Everyone else followed soon after squishing Stiles in the centre. “Come on, Derek, it’s not a group hug unless everyone participates.” Derek rolled his eyes  but still joined everyone. Stiles laughed, and for once, he felt at home.

***

John was pacing back and forth in the room. It’s been nearly three months now and there had been no sign of his son. Everyone who had helped him in the beginning started to back off. They never said it but he knew the reason why they stopped looking – they thought Stiles was dead.

But John knew better than that, his son was smart. He would do anything to live, whether it meant he would play captive for a band of pirates. His son would live. The only people who continued searching with him were Chris, Allison, Lydia and Peter, but none of them were getting anywhere.

Lydia placed a hand on John’s shoulder and said, “John, I think it’s time you took a short rest.” He’s tried, god how he’s tried to sleep, but every time he shuts his eyes he met by only nightmares. Every night he dreams about someone taking his son away as he screams for him over and over, or seeing Claudia’s motionless body on the ground surrounded by a pool of blood and Stiles’s crying over her. John didn’t want to rest, all he wanted was his son.

“Please, you’ve been up for three days straight, I promise you we’ll continue looking while you take a short nap. What would Stiles say if he say you now.” Lydia knew it was a hurtful thing to say, but John needed to remember that he still had to take care of himself. The man hadn’t been sleeping, nor had he been eating properly. He had lost a lot of weight in the past few days and started to carry himself sluggishly rather than the proud man he had once been. He was breaking and there was no point of rescuing Stiles if he killed himself in the process.

John looked shocked but nodded in understanding. “He would probably yell how I’ve been skipping out on healthy meals too.” He let out a soft chuckle. “Okay, I’ll be in my room, but promise me you’ll wake me up in three hours.” Lydia nodded but he knew they probably would not wake him up.

“I promise.” She said, a soft smile on her lips. “Now go and sleep.”

“Allison, I suggest you do the same.” Lydia said when John exited the room. “It’s clear you’re too tired to read through the map or reports, it’s best if you take a few hours break like John, just to recuperate. Your dad and I will still be here.”

Allison nodded, a light blush on her cheeks because Lydia had realized she had been dozing off. When Allison left, only Chris, Lydia, and Peter were left in the room.

“I’m starting to think you’re absolutely useless.” Lydia said. “It been three months and you have gotten no words about Stiles. Is it that hard to keep track of your old crew?”

“My dear, you clearly have no idea how hard it is to track a group of pirates like the Hales. I hate to say that Talia may have taught Derek a few tricks before she left the crew.”

Lydia sneered. “I’m not your dear. Don’t think it won’t be easy for me to get you executed if I even see a chance of you turning against us. And Chris, don’t you dare think for a second I don’t find it incredibly risky bringing Peter into the picture. Honestly, what were you thinking?”

Peter laughed at Chris’s face. “Oh yes, I was surprised too, quite clever, don’t you think?”

Both Lydia and Chris ignored his statement. “I know, but he was our only hope, I just couldn’t stand seeing John like that.” Lydia pursed her lips but nodded in agreement. Lydia would probably have done the same. Lydia and Chris went back to studying the reports in silence and Peter watched over both of them.

He grinned from where he was sitting, everything was falling into place. It was clear Lydia, Chris and John would do anything to get Stiles back, he would bet it was the same for Allison and that would make it easy for Peter to suggest working with Deucalion, even if he was a pirate. Desperate people do desperate things, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this is late, I have exams coming up and had this long ass final project for one of my courses. Let me just say group projects are hell, especially when your group is not doing anything. I wanted to fit this chapter in or else it would've been SUPER late, so sorry if it's a bit shorter than normal. Next chapter will be a lot longer, this was more of a filler chapter anyways...  
> Hopefully see you next week :)  
> (Btw, your kudos and comments have been making my day. Thank you.)


	9. Chapter 9

After the whole ‘werewolf reveal’, things ran pretty smoothly on the ship. Hell, it was better than it ever had been before. During training, everyone let out their wolf sides more often and it was definitely more efficient. They reacted faster, recovered quicker and put up a better fight. Not like anyone could beat him in sword fighting though, even with the help of their wolf side. Stiles still taunts them about that fact.

                Moving things around the ship also went a lot faster. None of the crew members had to hold back their unnatural strength and most of the time you could see Boyd, Isaac and Erica carrying around three to four crates of supplies. It worked in Stiles’s favour because now he barely has to do any of the heavy lifting, because god, that was a pain to do. What he loved the most about the whole werewolf reveal was the closeness everyone had with one another. The whole puppy piles, snuggling and hugging happened _all the time._ Not that he was complaining. He just felt extremely bad that they had held back on all of this while he didn’t know what they were. Sure, Stiles could’ve lived without Jackson flickering his eyes at Stiles just to get a rise out of him the first few days, but he’s gotten used to it.

                Everyone had also gotten a lot closer to Stiles. Whenever they passed him, they brushed across his arm, pulled him into a quick hug or ran their palms on the back of his neck. He always found himself situated between Scott and Derek on the nights they bundled up together on the dining room floor with some part of everyone touching him. It was comforting.

Derek’s change was odd compared to the rest. Most of the time he barked orders out to Stiles without an ounce of care and tried his best to distance himself from Stiles but other times Derek gave him lingering looks and soft touches like he wants Stiles but is afraid he might break him. Which led to his confusion as to why Derek was sleeping, _in his bed._  

Stiles was used to waking up feeling overheated and crushed between bodies, but the feeling of a muscled body against his back and a leg and arm wrapped around him was an entirely different feeling. It would be a lie if he said he didn’t enjoy it, because right now he would give anything to let this continue happening, but it was weird. Even when everyone was sleeping together Derek tried his best to stay away from Stiles, leaning more to Isaac and barely touching him. It hurt a little, especially when Stiles saw how affectionate he was with the others. The way he would rub the back of their neck and brush his fingers through their hair made Stiles almost jealous of everyone else. But now, Derek was in his bed, his body pressed against Stiles and his breath ghosting over his shoulder in a way that made Stiles shiver with every exhale.

So what if Stiles developed a little crush on Derek…his dad would be so disappointed.

“Derek?” Stiles muttered. The only response he got in return was a groan and Derek burying his face in the crook of Stiles’s shoulder. Honestly, he should’ve learned from the first time. This man would do his best to stay asleep when he wanted to. Stiles wiggled around for a few minutes before he gave up and feel back sleep in Derek’s arms, he could deal with this later.

The next time Stiles woke up was because of a face rubbing into his shoulder. On the bright side, Derek seemed like he was awake but he barely seemed like he was aware of what he was doing.

“Ugh, Derek, if you seriously don’t get up this time, I swear I will roll both of us off this bed. Don’t even test me; I’m willing to make the sacrifice.”

Derek, for the first time, moved. He looked at Stiles and blinked slowly, which only confirmed Stiles thoughts of Derek having no idea what he was doing. Once Derek realized where he was and who he was snuggling up to, his face shifted into a look of surprise. A small part of him was thankful that his initial reaction wasn’t disgust, he had no idea how he’d handle that look. Stiles gave Derek a wiry smile. “Come on let’s get up before someone walks in on us again.”

Stiles turned around not wanting to look at the face Derek might have made and sat up as soon as Derek let go of him. He didn’t bother changing his shirt or pants before walking out of the door, leaving Derek to lie in his bed without him.

There was apparently another downside to the whole werewolf reveal, which was their insane sense of smell. Stiles figured they were probably hiding it before, but now that he knew, Scott didn’t even bother to hold back his words before he said “You smell like Derek.”

The words were innocent enough but everyone stopped what they were doing and turned towards him. Stiles almost missed the sound of the spoon scraping across the sides of the pan whenever Isaac stirred his food because it at least saved him from being the centre of attention.

“That’s normal right, smelling like Derek I mean.” He said slowly.

Scott stared at him for a while before nodding his head. It seemed that they all accepted that for an answer, well except for Erica who was laughing to herself at the end of the table. “About time.” She muttered.

Breakfast that day was quieter than usual. Derek didn’t come up to join his crew and without him there nothing seemed to fit together. People would talk over one anyone only to be told to shut up  by another set of people idly chatting with each other because they were too loud, or Jackson started to pick at his food without Derek to stare him into eating his vegetables (because seriously, Jackson hated to eat anything that was not made out of meat), and there was absolutely no food left so Stiles. He got used to the system of Derek taking more food at first and then giving pieces to Stiles throughout the meal. Without Derek, his plate was filled with dry bread and an abundance of fruits. Scott looked over at him sympathetically but continued to eat.

It’s not until the start of training that Stiles sees Derek and even then Derek avoids Stiles like the plague. And by then Stiles is frustrated, so he does what every mature, reasonable adult would do –he fought back. He joined the Scott and Isaac with their stretching and ignored Derek for the rest of the day. He fought with Erica, talked with Danny during dinner and turned the other way whenever he got a glimpse of Derek. He even skipped when they all gathered to sleep in the dining room. Sure, Stiles was being childish but Derek started it.

He wasn’t really surprised to see Derek at his door in the middle of the night, Stiles figured he’d break first. Stiles was a gift to the world…most of the time.

“Why weren’t you there?”

“How many times have I told you Derek? You have to be more specific, there could mean anything. Like in the bird’s nest, 50 feet under water, _home.?”_ The last word made Derek twitch which only made Stiles feel bad. He might’ve won the fight of who could ignore each other the longest but seeing the way Derek had recoiled at his words didn’t feel like a win. It just left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“I wasn’t there because I didn’t think you wanted me there.” His words were barely above a whisper but he knew Derek would hear him.

“Why?”

Stiles removed the covers he had been previously burying himself into and glares at Derek. “Because you have been avoiding me!” Stiles nearly screams. He promptly buries himself back into his sheets not wanting to look at Derek anymore. Even underneath the sheets of his bed, Stiles could still hear the sound of Derek walking towards him. Every creak the wooden boards make under his feet makes Stiles twitch.

“Stiles?” His voice is gentle and Stiles hates that Derek decides to be kind to Stiles now. Stiles buried himself deeper into his sheet and tried to cover his ears.

“Stiles, please look at me?” Derek placed a hand on Stiles’s head and brushed through the strands. He attempted to swat at Derek’s hand but Derek didn’t stop.

“Please?” Stiles broke, his voice sounded too venerable and open, he wasn’t used to that tone of voice, from someone like Derek especially. Derek’s face was open and venerable in a way that he never was, “I don’t hate you Stiles.”

“Then why?”

Derek bit his lip and it looked like he wanted to run away and avoid Stiles again. “Because I thought you hated me. Because I’m a monster.” The second part was said a lot softer than the first.  

“I couldn’t ever hate you Derek.” His hand reached out to grab Derek’s. “It’s kind of the opposite that’s my problem.” The words make it out of his mouth before he could stop himself. “Uh, can we just pretend you didn’t hear that and we can go on and forget any of this ever happened?”

The response Stiles’s received were lips against his own. The kiss was soft and chaste and left Stiles wanting more. “Me too.” Stiles pulled Derek in to kiss him again, deeper and full of passion that has them both breathless by the end.

“Stay?”

Derek pulled the covers up and fit himself behind Stiles, arm and leg resting over him like Stiles had found him that morning. Stiles let himself fall back into Derek’s embrace.

***

                After the whole ‘werewolf reveal’, Derek was on edge. Derek knew that Stiles didn’t hate them but a part of him still thought he was a monster, something that could break Stiles if he wasn’t careful. His pack didn’t seem to care though, took to Stiles like a fish to water. They flashed his eyes at him, fought harder, scent marked him _all the time,_ and helped him around the ship by carrying supplies around. If he didn’t know any better, he would think his pack was trying to impress Stiles.

What was even worse was that his wolf seemed to be even happier. Stiles smelt like pack now and if Derek thought he smelt good before, now he smells heavenly. Every time he even gets near Stiles he wants to jump his bones and rub his face all over him. Erica’s even gone as far as saying Derek is pining. (He made sure to give her extra training that day). Stiles also seemed to fit into his pack, something like a second alpha. They wanted his approval and attention constantly, and they always had to make sure he smelt like them (which may have irked him a little because it was covering Derek’s scent from the clothes he had been lending him).

He had control though, he promised himself he would not make any attempts towards Stiles because he was a monster and Stiles deserved so much more.

It turned out Derek didn’t have control, in fact his control kind of sucked. Especially when he wakes up to a face-full of Stiles. And God, the smell of Stiles was so concentrated by his neck his wolf took over and started to rub all over him. The more Stiles’s scent mixed with Derek, the more appealing it was. It clearly had to be a dream because Derek would never have the guts to do this in real life. He’s already lost so much and he didn’t want to lose something he wasn’t even sure he had.

“Ugh, Derek, if you seriously don’t get up this time, I swear I will roll both of us off this bed. Don’t even test me; I’m willing to make the sacrifice.”  Stiles said and Derek thought it was amazing that even in his dream Stiles sounded _right._ Derek moved his head in attempt to look at the boy only to realize it wasn’t a dream. In his dreams, Stiles was never right, his moles weren’t placed properly, his nose wasn’t turned up enough and his eyes weren’t the right colour but this Stiles everything about him was perfect. He was awake.

Derek saw Stiles’s face harden, his face showing no emotion and it brought pain into Derek heart. For a second, he had hope that Stiles didn’t hate him. But he was wrong; there would be no one who loved a monster like Derek. Too deep in thought, Derek didn’t hear the next words Stiles said but the next thing he knew Stiles was gone. He buried himself under Stiles’s sheets and stuck his face within Stiles’s pillow, taking in Stiles’s scent and tried to ignore the pain in his chest.

He hid in Stiles’s room for the rest of the morning, preferring to skip out of breakfast rather than having to face any awkward confrontation with Stiles, but just because he was avoiding Stiles didn’t mean he escaped his betas. Boyd had first caught him in Stiles room, apparently he had to change the room’s sheets, and although he didn’t say anything he could tell Boyd was smirking at him. _Now there are two people on the ship that think I’m pining._ Derek thought, bitterly.

Scott had bumped into him when he was exiting the room; he had patted him on the pack and congratulated him on acting on his feelings.  Derek started to seriously wonder how many people Erica had told about her suspicions.

Jackson and Danny cornered him outside of the bathroom. The first questioned his romantic choices and the second smiled and told him Stiles was definitely a keeper.

His wolf had been preening at every meeting of his crew, every crew member had not only approved of their relationship but offered praise for Stiles. Every fibre of his being told him to just mark Stiles and claim him as his own but Stiles didn’t belong to him. After this morning events he doubted he even liked him. Being a captain of a pirate crew was probably worse in Stiles’s books then being a crew member, because he got along fine with everyone else, it was Derek who was the problem.

It was during training that he was confronted by his two other betas. Stiles and Derek often trained together as the others paired off. It was a system they had, Derek would stretch Stiles first, during those moments he would savour every moment of contact, and Stiles would return the favour. They would challenge each other in different form of combat until their clothes were soaked with sweat and their breaths came in shallow motions. This time, Stiles took one look at Derek before turning away. It was final, Derek had no chance. It was obvious, he supposed, Stiles was perfect. He didn’t deserve someone as broken as Derek.

Derek walked inside after he saw Stiles join Scott and Isaac in stretching. He wasn’t needed anyways. Erica had come running into the hall shortly after Derek grabbed onto his arm. “What did you do?” He thought it was funny, Stiles was only on the ship for a few months but he already had most of the betas backing him up, believing he was never the one at fault, but then again it was Derek who was always to blame, even back then.

“I didn’t do anything. He’s the one who hates me.”

Erica looked at him shell-shocked, like the answer itself was clearly impossible to anyone with eyes. “He …hates you.”

“Yes.” He muttered and bit the inside of his cheek, preferring physical pain over the cruel truth.

“I’m pretty sure it’s the opposite.” Isaac said. “Didn’t mean to ease-drop, just happened to pick up on your conversation and thought I’d add in.”

“Can I leave now?” Derek muttered between his teeth.

“Nope, Der’ we’re not done yet.” Derek growled. “Okay, we’re going to have an emergency pack pile and you’re going to deal with your ‘Stiles’ problem whether you like it or not.” Erica said.

“You know, I don’t have to do what you say.”

“I know you don’t but you will.” Derek shook off her grip and continued to walk to his room, he was going to forget about Erica’s plan and do nothing about it. Erica couldn’t be right. He wasn’t that easy to convince.

He ends up doing it.

The dining room is packed with blankets and pillows. The soft white sheets contrasting the deep brown flooring. He is warm, arms, feet, bodies are pressed against him, all of it sooths Derek and anchors him. It’s times like these that Derek misses his family the most and when he is the most thankful of the new family he received. But it wasn’t right, something about tonight felt awkward. During the night, he shifted and snuffled at the sheets causing everyone to groan at being woken by Derek every few minutes. Danny and Jackson had already moved away from Derek and he heard Isaac threaten to claw his leg multiple times if he continues to move, but Derek still couldn’t help but feel restless.

“Uh, just go get your man Der’ or I swear I will… I will do something extremely painful and permanent that I can’t think of right now because I’m tired. Just please for the sake of everyone’s sleep.” Erica said. “And if you even think about just going back into your room and hiding until the problem goes away, I will make sure the rest of your life is hell. Now let me sleep.”

Derek got up from the bed, it was true, he was most likely never going to get to sleep and he was keeping his betas awake. Not to mention, he would not like to know whatever Erica had in store for him, he can heal but he’s pretty sure Erica will find a way to make him suffer a whole lot more. He made it to Stiles’s room without a thought, so used to coming here long before Stiles inhabited the room. He still wasn’t sure why he had given Stiles Laura’s old room while there were three spare rooms on the ship but it seemed right at that time. Derek twisted the knob and walked in. He could see Stiles twitch from underneath the blanket, a tell-tale sign that he was awake.

“Why weren’t you there?” were the first words out of Derek’s mouth. He knew it should’ve been something else. I like you. Please don’t leave me. Please don’t hate me. Anything else.

“How many times have I told you Derek? You have to be more specific, there could mean anything. Like in the bird’s nest, 50 feet under water, _home”._ Derek twitched at the last word. It was obvious now why he was hated. He was the one who made the plan. He was the one who took Stiles from his home. It was never any of his betas fault. He was to blame and that’s why he was hated. Derek could smell the bitterness coming off from Stiles and he figured it was directed towards him, there was no one else in the room after all.  

“I wasn’t there because I didn’t think you wanted me there.” His words were barely above a whisper but Derek could hear him. He was surprised by the answer, he didn’t expect an answer, at least not one that was honest.

“Why?”

Stiles removed the covers he had been previously burying himself into and glares at Derek. “Because you have been avoiding me!” Stiles nearly screams. He promptly buries himself back into his sheets not wanting to look at Derek anymore. And Derek, he didn’t know what to think. Everything about Stiles made Derek think he hated him but he seemed to care if Derek was avoiding him. It didn’t make sense.

Derek walked towards Stiles, wanting to touch him, hold him, and reassure Stiles that he was never really avoiding him. Every step he took made the floor squeak and he saw Stiles flinch at every sound.

“Stiles?” He placed a hand on Stiles’s head and brushed the strands of hair that weren’t covered by the thin blanket. He savours every feeling, believing it to be his last.

“Stiles, please look at me?” Derek ignored Stiles’s swatting of his hand, preferring to continually running his fingers through his hair.

“Please?” He whispered, his voice sounded foreign to himself - too venerable and open. “I don’t hate you Stiles.”

“Then why?”

Derek bit his lip, he wanted to run and hide but Erica’s words rang in his head and he continued. “Because I thought you hated me. Because I’m a monster.” The second part barely made it past his lips. It was something he rarely admitted to people because they would always try to assure then it wasn’t true, but Derek could always see the underlying fear and hear the little skip in their heart. No one could convince him otherwise.   

“I couldn’t ever hate you Derek.” His hand reached out to grab Derek’s. “It’s kind of the opposite that’s my problem.” Derek wasn’t sure if he heard what Stiles had said properly, it had to be a dream and he was sleeping, but everything about this Stiles seemed so real that it couldn’t be a dream. _Maybe Isaac was right._

“Uh, can we just pretend you didn’t hear that and we can go on and forget any of this ever happened?” he rambled.

Derek held his breath and took a chance on his words. He pressed his lips to Stiles’s soft and chaste. “Me too.” Derek was pulled into another kiss by Stiles, deeper and full of passion that has them both breathless by the end.

“Stay?” Stiles sounded unsure and he couldn’t help wondering if he, like Derek, thought this was just a dream. That he’d wake up the next day with a hole in his heart and memories of a false reality that would have never been possible.

Derek pulled the covers up and fit himself behind Stiles, arm and leg resting over him. He listened as Stiles’s breathing evened out and his heart slow down. That night, he fell asleep to uneven pulses of Stiles’s heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M DONE EXAMS. SUMMER HERE I COME...well summer job here I come. But I'll definitely update more often than once a week as long as I don't get distracted.  
> 


	10. Chapter 10

This time when Stiles woke up, with Derek’s face only inches from his, he could not stop the feeling of giddiness that ran over him. _It wasn’t a dream._ Relief flushed through his entire body. He was so afraid that he had dreamed the whole thing the night before, that Derek and him were still avoiding each other, no matter how much it hurt Stiles to do so. Stiles brought his lips up to Derek’s forehead and kissed it lightly.

“Good morning.” He whispered. Derek stirred in his sleep, his eyes heavy as he blinked.

“-orning.” His voice was rough from sleep and Stiles thought he would love hearing that for the rest of his life. He loved the idea of everything, waking up beside Derek, buried within his arms before he falls asleep, watching the private smiles he gave Stiles every once and then. It was so easy to forget in these moments that Derek was a pirate, not to mention a captain, and Stiles was the son of the navy’s captain. But Stiles would make the most out of these moments as he could, even if he would go back to a disappointed father. He would understand…maybe.

Stiles smiled softly at Derek before nudging him a bit. “Come on Big Bad, it’s time to wake up.” Derek gave him a slight nudge back before kissing him deeply. Stiles melted into the kiss, opening his mouth slightly, loving the way Derek’s lips felt on his. Stiles had been kissed before, sure, once with Lydia (because he was curious and Lydia finally gave in), and to a bunch of people in passing, but this was the first time a kiss ever felt like this to Stiles – full of emotion, tenderness, _love._

When Derek and Stiles’s lips parted, it took every fibre of his being not to pull him back in or beg for another because he knew that someone would come down to wake them up. From what Stiles could tell, it seemed like Derek had the same problem. But hey, one more kiss couldn’t hurt. Stiles crushed his lips against Derek, feverously molding his lips against Derek’s. It was sloppy, rushed but it felt right. It seemed like Derek didn’t mind either as he returned the kiss with equal passion. They were still kissing when Scott opened the door.

“Stiles, breakfast is, - holy shit.” Scott screamed. Stiles was pretty sure he would remember the squeal that Scott made for the rest of his life. “Stiles, seriously, with _Derek_. Ugh, I’m never going to forget that for the rest of my life. I hope you both are happy.”

“Extremely.” They both said together, although Derek sounded far more sarcastic than Stiles did. When Scott ran out of the room, both Derek and Stiles couldn’t stop the laughter that was bursting from within in.

“Oh man, Scott of all people.” Stiles said, wiping the tears out of his eyes. He could feel his face become red from laughing too much and Derek’s face held a similar completion. _Even Derek’s laugh is beautiful_ , Stiles thought. The way his eyes lit up and his teeth poked out from beneath his lips, he would love to watch him laugh forever, if given the chance.

“I guess we have to go before we scar anyone else.” Derek said. He kissed Stiles deeply one more time before getting out of the bed, pulling Stiles up with him.

“Actually, I was hoping we could get Jackson before we made it to breakfast, but I guess we still have more time.” The words made Derek chuckle and Stiles smiled back at him. ‘His dad wouldn’t be _that_ mad if he ever found out.’ Stiles decided.

 

After breakfast, the crew went back to training. And if Stiles said he didn’t sneak in a few kisses during stretches, he’d be lying. He was pretty sure he saw Jackson gag at least twice while Erica and Danny cooed.

Although he was feeling content in everyone’s presence, something felt wrong to Stiles. It didn’t have anything to do with Derek, or any of the crew for that matter, it was just too peaceful. It was like the calm before the storm and Stiles wasn’t sure he really wanted to face another storm. He remembered feeling this way before his mother had died and every passing minute sent shivers through him. He was restless. Back when he was home, whenever he felt like this he would train, fight with anyone who was willing.

It happened when his dad was gone from a trip too long or the anniversary of Scott’s disappearance and his mother’s death. Since he figured that was the only thing that would calm him down, he picks up two daggers and a random blade from the barrel.

“Who wants to fight?” he asked, smirking. He knew he’d at least get Jackson in – he’d never turn down a challenge, and maybe Erica would take the bait too, if he was lucky.

“Oh, you’re so on Stilinski.” Jackson said. _One down._

“I’m in, but I guess that means I’ll have to wait until Jackass is done.” Erica said soon after.

“Guess that makes me third.” Derek said. _Well, that was a surprise._ He didn’t expect Derek wanting to fight with him, not after the first challenge Stiles had put down.

“Okay, rules are no major injuries, claws allowed and don’t get your ass beaten too hard by me.” Stiles smiled. “Start.”

Jackson launched himself at Stiles as soon as he said ‘start’, but Stiles easily dodged him, dragging one of the daggers across his side as he passed.  When Jackson landed, he looked at the trail of blood that ran down his side and his ripped shirt and growled. Stiles laughed loud and free. “Is that all you got?”

This time Jackson didn’t leap in recklessly, he slowly walked up towards Stiles looking for an opening. Stiles could tell he wasn’t stalling; he was fully prepared to take him down when the time was right, so Stiles attacked. He flicked one of the daggers high into the sky and drew his sword. It wasn’t as easy to move with like his sword at home but it’d do. Jackson stopped the sword with his claws, the high screeching sound of the claws against metal made everyone flinch, but unlike Derek, he didn’t give a large enough opening for him to strike.

Stiles jumped back and waited, his dagger would fall soon, if Jackson were to launch himself at Stiles again then he’d win. Lucky for him, Jackson did just that. Jackson ran towards Stiles, claws out, and tried to slash his face. Stiles dropped his sword and grabbed his arm. Using his momentum he flipped Jackson onto the ground and straddled his waist. Jackson growled at Stiles and tried to flick Stiles off of him but within the next second the knife Stiles threw landed right beside Jackson’s ear, cutting part of his hair and opened a small wound on his ear. Stiles grabbed the other knife and brought it to Jackson’s neck.

“Checkmate.” He smiled and got to his feet. “That makes Stiles 1 and everyone else 0. Erica you’re next.”

“Oh, I’ve been ready since you started fighting Jackson.” Erica was flicking two daggers into the air and catching them. He’d seen Erica fight before and if he was truthful, he was the most scared of her fighting, behind Derek maybe. She ruled in hand to hand combat and barely left any openings. She also wasn’t afraid to fight dirty if she had to, a little hair pulling there, kick to the groin. She fought like she was fighting for her life.

“Let’s dance, Catwoman.” Stiles picked up the dagger that was imbedded in the wood by Jackson head and stood up. In Stiles opinion it was better to fight close distance with close distance. He didn’t want to risk her getting close and having no way of defending himself.

Neither of them jumped at each other, they only circled around each other and assessed each other’s movement. If Stiles wasn’t careful he’d definitely lose this fight. He would probably never live it down too, especially since he’d taunted everyone else on the ship whenever they lost to him in a sword fight.

“Too scared to fight? I wouldn’t make fun of you if you surrendered.” Stiles tried to egg Erica on.

“Naw, I think the only one who has something to be scared about is you.”

They circled each other for what seemed to be forever. It was clear now that she wasn’t going to attack unless Stiles initiated or he became too tired. They did have an advantage of endurance after all. It was a lesson that Stiles dad had taught him many times before. ‘If your opponent was bigger or stronger than you, tire them out, outlast them and when they’re form slackens, aim for the killing blow.’

 Using the knife, Stiles aimed for Erica’s throat. He ducked under Erica’s first punch and kicked her in the shin. She barely reacted to the kick and she used the knife in her right hand to slash Stiles on his side. He barely made it away within a cut but his shirt was now ruined. _Sorry Scotty, ruined your shirt._ Stiles was more careful after that, every attack Stiles made was to a calculated position – collar bone, ankle, forearm, thigh, neck. He wasn’t fully sure it would work at the beginning but Erica started to move more sluggishly, each point he had put pressure on seemed to be taking toll on her body- _even with werewolf healing ability._ It was only when Erica had extended her arm, slow and sloppyily, did he know it worked. He took his opportunity and jumped on Erica’s back, holding her neck in a tight hold.

“Pressure points are a bitch aren’t they?” Stiles said. He waited until Erica muttered words of surrender to let go of his hold on her.

“That makes Stiles 2, everyone else 0. Who’s ready for round three?”

Derek walked up to Stiles, full of confidence. Stiles picked up the rapier he used to fight Derek before from the barrel - he had to be on his full game for the alpha. “Ready, set ...go!”

Derek and Stiles rushed towards each other, Derek using his claws to fight this time around instead of his sword. Maybe it was because he got cocky after beating Erica and Jackson or because he was too tired, but after Stiles’s first lunge Derek had pulled the back of Stiles shirt throwing him to the ground. The air was knocked out of his lungs and he was soon greeted by Derek’s warm body against his and Derek’s face right above him.

“That’s one for everyone else.”

“Ugh” Stiles groaned. “You only beat me because I was tired.”

“No, I beat you because I’m the alpha.” Derek flashed his eyes at Stiles and pecked him on the lips. The kiss was followed by groans from the entire crew.

“Ew, it’s like seeing your parents kiss.” Isaac said and Scott starting muttering that he didn’t see anything over and over again.

Stiles couldn’t help himself and burst into laughter. When he looked up at Derek, he could see the small, warm smile that graced his face. The look Derek was giving him was full of adoration, something that he had only seen when his dad looked at his mom. He wished that he could stop time in this moment forever because it was _perfect._

***

Peter looked at the letter in front of him. He and Deucalion had been sending each other letters back and forth to rely messages about the conditions of both parties and how well the plan was coming along. It seemed that Derek and his crew had been spotted near a dock only three days ago. Peter was no fool; he knew where they were going – back to the old Hale property. He almost found it funny that Derek was trying to _settle down,_ like he deserved any of that.

Everyone else, that still bothered searching for Stiles, was on the verge of giving up. It was perfect really. All he needed was a few selected people to join his new crew and anyone who stayed this long for a boy showed their loyalty and perseverance, something perfect to be given to their alpha.

Deucalion planned on attacking the ship in a few days’ time, hoping to catch Derek and possible kill some of his crew. They weren’t needed anymore, after all. Deucalion had also promised to keep the boy out of harm; they had both found him interesting after all.

Peter watched Lydia pace around the room where Allison and Chris sat. Just a few more days until he would spill the information of Stiles’s location. Just a full more days until he sunk his teeth in Allison, Lydia, Chris and Stiles. Just a few more days until he was alpha again and this time he wouldn’t stop until his pack was the last one standing and reigning supreme. Only fools made the same mistake twice.

And he was no fool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was really in the mood for some Sterek fluff and Stiles fighting so this chapter was born...it actually wasn't in my initial chapter plan but hey, surprises can be nice some times. I'm really sorry this is a bit late, turns out working summer camps is a HELL of a lot more stressful then being in school. I'm still going to try my best to update two times a week. So, hopefully see you soon.
> 
> By the way thank you to anyone who comment/kudo'd. Honestly, they make my day. :)


	11. Chapter 11

Derek had gotten used to this routine – going to bed alone and waking up with an armful of Stiles, eating all his meals with the pack and giving away some of his food because Stiles never got enough for himself, and finally having someone to stretch with during training sessions. The last time he’d been this happy was when his family was still alive.

A small part of him still blamed himself for their deaths; he was the only one alive, after all. But when his senses were surrounded by Stiles, of pack, home, and mate, he can’t bring himself to remember the feeling of disgust and misery.

Still being the last room in the ship irked him. This used to be Laura’s room and now he can’t see it as any other room but Stiles’s. It was like he repainted over every memory of Laura and Derek wasn’t sure if he was relieved or angered. Derek wasn’t ready to let her go, he doubts he’d ever be ready and yet Stiles presence was helping him do just that. Letting him forgive and move on. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t entered his old room since. The ones littered in claw marks and felt so devoid of life. He could still remember locking himself inside the room during full moons.

_Peter was dead and Derek was alone. The pull of the moon was greater than it had ever been before, making him thirst for revenge, for blood, for pack. He could hear his pack right outside the room, huddled together within their blankets to provide some sort of closeness to Derek. He found himself reaching out before his other hand clawed into his arm, creating ribbons of blood that dripped down onto the floor until the wound closed up. No, he didn’t deserve a pack, especially because he wasn’t able to protect Laura from his uncle, protect Isaac from his own fears, protect his betas – his friends from being taken away. He didn’t deserve such a fulfilling life._

_He focused on anger instead of family. His claws lengthening and wanting to strike out at anyone…anything. The sheets were first, then the walls. He made a mark for everyone he lost – his mother, father, brothers, sisters, Laura, he focused on her mark more than any other.  Hers was in the centre of the room and it was dug in so deep a small push would cause the wood to collapse and make a hole to another room. When the walls were done he clawed into his own body, using pain now to control his shift. He had promised himself, no matter what, he would not bring harm to his betas. The wounds would heal and he deserved the pain anyways. He’d always deserve the pain._

Derek didn’t realize he was crying until Stiles was brushing a hand over his face, wiping away the wetness that was there.

“Want to talk about it?”

Derek shook his head and turned his body away from Stiles. He wasn’t ready to talk about it yet, especially to someone he wasn’t sure was going to stay. Stiles, thankfully, didn’t push on the subject but he brought Derek closer to himself, spooning him and giving him warmth like Derek had done for him many nights before.

“I’ll always be here to talk. Whenever you’re ready.” Stiles said.

Derek didn’t say anything but he had a feeling Stiles understood anyways. In his arms, Derek wondered what would have changed if he’d picked pack as his anchor rather than anger. His thoughts slowly came to a stop as he fell into the heat that Stiles’s body provided. It didn’t matter what he’d chosen in the past. What matters is what he chooses now.

***

Stiles woke up to something landing on the deck. It was not loud, but just enough to wake him from slumber. He shakes Derek awake, hoping that for once the man will wake quickly. Luckily, Derek did wake up instantly; he shot out of the bed and sniffed the air.

“Alphas.” His voice was barely above a whisper but he knew that Stiles, along with the rest of the crew, had heard the word. It was clear that Aiden was back and coming from the look of worry on Derek’s face, he didn’t come alone.

“Stiles, I want you to stay in this room. Don’t come out unless one of us come for you.”

“Derek –“

“Please Stiles.”

“Derek, I can’t. I don’t want to see you get hurt. It would make it even worse if something happens to you up there and I wasn’t there to help you. What if they get you with wolfbane again, and I’m not there to fight back. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

“Okay, just please be careful. I can’t lose you.” Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles, breathing in his scent. It might be the last time he’d be able to. Stiles in turn, wrapped his arms around Derek. For Stiles this was a promise, an incentive to walk out alive with everyone. This crew was his home, _his pack._

Stiles picked up his blade before making his way to the deck. Everyone was waiting for them by the door, letting Derek exit first. He’d be the one who’d react the fastest and Stiles knew he would never sacrifice the life of his betas. They were family.

The open door brought the blinding sun and the view of an empty ship but everyone was still on edge. They all smelt the alphas as soon as they woke up, they just didn’t know where they were. Derek made a quick hand motion and everyone slowly walked outside.

“Where are they?” Scott asked. As soon as the words had flown from his mouth Erica was tackled by a female alpha.

“Erica!” Stiles screamed. Boyd made his way to her assistance, claws out and eyes glowing a striking gold. Ethan and Aiden soon followed Kali’s attack by blocking off Isaac, Scott, Jackson and Danny from Derek and Stiles. Stiles thought they were lucky, the numbers worked in their favour but even then, these were _alphas –_ stronger, faster, and more feral then a beta.

Erica and Boyd already seemed to be losing their battle. Stiles took one look at Derek, nodded and they rushed to opposite sides. He ran up to the female alpha and struck his sword into her side, using surprise in his advantage. The wound was deep, but it healed soon after. Stiles knew it wouldn’t stop her, but it’d be perfect to slow her down and give Erica time to heal.

“Come at me, Alpha bitch.” He said with a taunting smile. She roared and launched herself at him. Stiles thought it was funny, fighting her was similar to fighting with Jackson. She was easily provoked and preferred to attack before thinking. Stiles moved quickly to the side and used his sword to drag across her outstretched arm.

“That all you can do?” The alpha stared at her arm and back at Stiles.

“You’re going to wish you didn’t do that.” The alpha ran towards Stiles again. She brought her claws up to scratch Stiles face but as Stiles was about dodge the movement she brought her leg up. The claws on her toes scratched across Stiles’s side, the flesh cutting like butter under her strength. The wound hurt like a bitch and at that moment he was extremely jealous of super-healing. Stiles barely had the time to collect himself before she came at him again. He dropped his sword, deeming it useless in this fight, and blocked the strikes with his hands. Every movement caused blood to escape from his wound faster. From the corner of his eye, he could see Boyd helping Erica to stand. It was clear that fate loved him, the timing was perfect really. Stiles grabbed one of the alpha’s legs, used the momentum of the strike to flip her on her back.

“Erica, Boyd, now!”

They were on her in an instant, Erica holding his upper body and Boyd on her lower.

“Sweetie, you’re going to regret attacking our pack.” Erica unleashed her claws and jabbed them into her shoulder. The alpha spat out the blood that flowed into her mouth.

“Ugh, Erica was that really necessary?” Stiles asked. Erica took one look at Stiles’s side before she flashed her eyes and said, “Yes.”

Stiles turned to the other edge of the ship where the twin alphas were and if Stiles thought they were ugly before they were definitely worse now. The two had seemed to merge together to complete their form and from what he could see they were falling fast. The teamwork between Scott and Isaac, and Danny and Jackson was near perfect. Stiles hasn’t seen members of the navy that worked in such synchrony. It was Derek who landed the finishing blow, a slash across their chest, and howled in victory. Stiles could feel the relief flow through him, they had won. They had beaten the alphas.

A small flash of movement caught Stiles eyes. He felt himself move before he even realized it happening. Stiles had rushed in front of Derek right before a man’s claws ran through him, using his body as a shield. The blood flew out of his mouth quickly, the taste bitter and rushed out from his lips and wound. The man’s arm impaled Stiles’s side, but he couldn’t feel it. There was just a feeling of numbness that settled through him, what hurt was the look of pain on everyone’s faces. Couldn’t they understand that he’d done it for them? Stiles knew that the attack was going to kill Derek, and he knew they wouldn’t be able to live without their alpha.

Stiles forced his lips into what he hoped was a small smile but probably came out more as a grimace. “Sorry.” He mumbled before dropping to the ground.

Through his blurry vision he could see Derek attacking the man, giving him one slash after the other, no breath in between. Stiles could hear the howl the female alpha made for her pack member as she flung Erica and Boyd off her and ran to his side. She knocked Derek off enough to grab the man and jump off the ship, where the twins had followed soon after. Scott held back Derek as he tried to chase after them and Stiles had to wonder why. Why he was so angry. He knew it might’ve happened, hell, he might’ve had to do it himself if the navy wouldn’t take the ransom. Wouldn’t it be better to lose Stiles now before his feelings became too deep?

Stiles eyes became heavier with every time he blinked. One moment his vision was empty, only of the clear sea and sky, and the next second he was surrounded by Derek. Derek, the man he’d come to love, was crying and murmuring words of comfort. Stiles wasn’t sure if it was meant for himself or for Stiles. _Oh,_ Stiles thought, _He was already in too deep._

“Don’t kill me off yet, Sourwolf. A Stilinski doesn’t die that easily.” Stiles said between coughs.

The tears continued to fall from Derek’s eyes and he started to wonder what he smelt like to Derek. Probably death from the way he was looking at him. Stiles eyes were getting heavier and heavier.

“Please Stiles, please don’t leave me.”

“I’d never leave you I-“ Stiles words died as he blacked out but both he and Derek knew the words that followed.

_Love you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um....things get worse from here.


	12. Chapter 12

Derek couldn’t feel anything but anger. It was weird, the last time he had felt like this was when Laura had died, but Laura was family and pack, Stiles was not. No, that wasn’t true, Stiles was pack. He was pack long before he had held up Derek in the water, before he had even joined their first puppy pile. He was pack the moment he stepped on the ship, and it just took him this long to realize it.

Erica had to hold him back from jumping off the ship with Ennis and Kali. He knew they were right of course, there was no way for him to catch them and it could be a trap, but all he wanted to do was dig his claws into them and get revenge for his pack. Even in the arms of Erica he couldn’t seem to calm down, everything was filled with Stiles. His nose was filed with the scent of his blood, behind his eyes he could only see Stiles saving him from Ennis, his fingers could still feel the moment their bodies had brushed together before he had fallen, his tongue could only taste the blood on his lips like he was the one to injure the boy so greatly and his ears could only hear the words Stiles was unable to say. He was drowning, but this time it wasn’t water filling his system.

“Derek, help me!” He heard Scott call him, distantly.

Seeing Stiles again was worse than the first time. The boy was becoming so pale it seemed as if his life drained out from him. The pale skin only made the wound look worse, the sickening red across his side as blood continued to flow. There was so much blood, it was seeping into the floor boards of the ship, sucking in every last drop and taking all what Stiles had left.

“You have to bite him!” Scott screamed again. He had the boy’s head cradled in his lap like it was going to stop the fact his best friend was dying.

 _Biting him._ The thought never came to Derek mind before and he feels stupid of not thinking it beforehand. It was the best chance they had at saving him and they would also make him pack. Prove to everyone that he was theirs and not something to be taken.

“Get his other side ready, Scott, we got to be quick.”

Scott used his claws to rip off what was left of Stiles’s shirt and Isaac quickly got some water to wash the blood out from his skin. Too much blood would contaminate the bite. Derek and the rest of the pack thought they would feel relief when they cleaned the unwounded side of flesh but they could all feel the dread flush through them. On Stiles other side was the scarring of a bite mark and Derek knew a werewolf bite anywhere. Looking at the puckered skin, bile rose quickly from his stomach.

Stiles wasn’t a werewolf but he had the bite. It was a clear message. A mark of property. Stiles wasn’t his and there was no way of giving him the bite to save him now. Stiles was already something else.

“Shit.” Jackson mumbled.

“Cover his wound and bring him to his room. Grab me some thread and bandages.” Boyd said. Everyone moved quickly to do something – Scott and Jackson carried Stiles into the ship after Danny had covered the wound, Issac and Erica went to get the supplies and Boyd got ready to patch up Stiles. Derek was the only one who stayed frozen on the deck, his fingers pale and shaking and claws threatening to poke out with each breath he took. It was easy to remember now why anger was his anchor. People will die on you, people could love you then leave you in the same breath. Derek dug his claws into his legs until he felt the shift leave him. For the first time in a long while, Derek willingly gave himself into the pain.

***

Derek thought he was lucky. Lucky that Boyd knew how to take care of injured people, lucky that werewolves could take away someone else pain, lucky that Stiles had a chance of survival.

He seemed to be getting better for a while. Every hour he was becoming less pale and the fever he had broken into had started to die down. His body was still drenched in sweat and blood but he no longer smelt of death. Throughout the day, Derek holds Stiles hand, clenching the sweaty palms in hope of some movement and he constantly listens to Stiles heartbeat not sure if he’s looking more for the sound of it stopping or getting stronger. As much as Derek wanted Stiles alive, he didn’t want him to suffer and whatever Stiles was going through now looked like agony.

The boy twisted and turned in his sleep so much that Derek stayed awake most nights and took away the most pain he could without passing out himself. Every once and a while the boy would jump out from his bed, pale faced and white eyed, give out a silent scream and fall back onto his bed. The first few times it happened, Derek and Scott nearly had a heart attack. It still scared Derek whenever he saw it but Scott had gotten more used to it.

It had been two weeks since Stiles had been injured but there was still no luck in him waking up. Derek figured he looked horrible by the looks the pack gave him whenever they came into visit Stiles. He hadn’t cleaned himself in nearly a week, he ate less because he never felt hungry and he could barely sleep because he was more concentrated with the beating of Stiles heart then his own health. It’s just that Derek couldn’t bring himself to leave Stiles side, he was afraid that if he takes his eyes off for just a second, like Laura, he would die. He didn’t want to have the memory of two people he loved dying in the same room, to have two people’s blood on _his_ hands.

Stiles turned in his sleep again and groaned. It was clear Stiles was having a nightmare again. For the last few days, Stiles has been muttering the word ‘mother’ under his breath like a mantra. Every time he had the nightmare he would end up drenched in sweat and bit his lips until they bled. The nightmare seemed to get longer and longer and Stiles became paler as the days past and slowly made their way towards the full moon. Derek was also counting the nights until the full moon, the night he will have no control, the night he fears he will take his anger out on Stiles rather than himself, the night he won’t fully understand the weak beating of Stiles heart.

Stiles was dying and Derek could do nothing to stop it.

***

“Kali, Ennis, Aiden and Ethan, I take it the plan was unsuccessful.” The man said with a small frown.

“Deucalion, we tried our best but a boy was there. He got in the way of Ennis’s attack on Derek. We’re pretty sure the boy is dead by now, Ennis ripped his claws through him. We have to get Ennis some treatment though. Derek and his fucking pack nearly killed him.” Kali said.

“Of course, bring him to my room; I’ll treat him.” Deucalion said. Kali nodded and brought Ennis into the last room of their house.

“Aiden and Ethan, get some rest, I’ll need you both tomorrow.”

“Deucalion, you have to let us go back, we have to kill Hale and his friends. Did you see what they did to Ennis!” Aiden yelled.

Deucalion pulled out his cane and wacked him across the face, a thin line of blood dripped from under his eye. “I said get some rest. Did you not understand my order?” Deucalion voice rang with power and it had both Aiden and Ethan shivering under the tone.

“We understand.” Ethan said quickly and dragged his brother into their room.

Deucalion’s cane echoed through the halls as he tapped it on the ground. He preferred this lifestyle, living in a secure home while his pack roamed the seas and brought back with them gold and tokens from different towns they’ve ravaged. He always made sure they had a place to come back to, he was their alpha after all.

When he opened his room, he was greeted by the sight of Kali draping a wet cloth over Ennis’s forehead. He knew they loved each other greatly, although they had tried to hide it from him. Love was a weakness after all, he’d learned that when the navy had taken his wife hostage and killed her in front of him.

“Kali, you’ve done a great job, I’ll handle it from here.”

Kali gave a curt head nod and exited the room. Without touching Ennis, he could tell he was going to wake up soon. The man’s heart rate was rising and he could smell the scent of fresh blood going away.

Deucalion walked to Ennis’s bedside and ran his fingers across his torso. The man made twitching movements in his unconscious state but he paid it no mind. He brushed his lips on both sides of the man’s face before placing his palm over the man’s eyes and nose. He squeezed his skull until the sound of a sickening crack resounded. As soon as it was done, he could feel the pack bond snap. They all should have felt it by now.

It wasn’t that he wanted to _kill_ Ennis necessarily. It was just he failed and hurt the boy both Peter and him wished to have in their own pack. He didn’t need someone who didn’t follow orders. And well, now everyone else had an incentive to destroy Derek Hale’s pack. They did take the life of one of their own.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this chapter is shorter than normal, working camp is really killing me. Anyways...I should be able to get the next chapter in by Wednesday.  
> On a side note, I'm not really watching season 5 of teen wolf because I kinda missed the first two episodes and the news of Derek leaving kinda disappointed me. But, if they ever tell Stiles's real name please message me it on tumblr or something, I'd be really grateful if you did. :D  
> Hopefully see you soon :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the first time in a long while, Stiles dreamed.

For the first time in a long while, Stiles dreamed.

Stiles was in the middle of a forest, the damp grass tickled his toes and filled his nose with the scent of dew. A woman in a long white dress was beckoning Stiles towards her. He reached out towards her, words on the tip of his tongue, but was stopped by an excited squeal. A boy no older than seven ran up to the woman and jumped into her arms.

The joy on both of their faces was evident; she flung the boy around in circles, giggles rang throughout the air. Everything about the scene made Stiles wanted to come closer, to join them, but something about watching the scene made it feel like daggers were being stabbed into his heart. He walked forward with shaky steps, the faces becoming clearer the closer he got but the pain ran deeper.  When he saw the faces, he finally understood the reason for the pain.

“Mom?” the words were soft, barely a whisper. He ran towards her, almost slipping on the dewy grass. When he stood in front of the two figures, he reached out to touch his mother’s face, but his fingers ran through her form.

“No.” Stiles muttered and tried to touch the boy now, but the same results occurred. “No, no, no.” He said, tears running down his face. The mind was a cruel thing, offering such a sweet memory but not letting Stiles have the ability to touch or be touched by the one thing that was taken away from him.

A deep growl had his mom and younger self turn. Everything about the scene was familiar but he couldn’t remember- he just knew that it wasn’t safe. “Mom,” he said cautiously, “mom, you have to run. Take me and run.” Neither of them moved, they stood in the grass waiting to see what would come out from the forest. “Mom, please, just please you have to run.” He reached out towards her only to fall to the ground, his fingers and knees scraping dirt as he fumbled back up.

He turned towards his mother only to see her walking towards the forest – closer to the growl. “Please mom, don’t.” Little Stiles was following right behind Claudia, his hand gripping the white dress tightly as they continued to walk forward. When they reached the end of the forest a beast jumped out at Claudia and Stiles.

“No!” Stiles yelled.

The beast sunk his claws within Claudia and she choked on a scream. “Mommy!” Little Stiles yelled. The boy ran up to his mother and placed himself in between the beast and her. “Leave us alone.”

Stiles ran his fingers up his sides. _This is a memory, holy shit._ He thought.

The growling from the wolf slowly started to transform into a soft chuckle. No longer was there a wolf in front of Stiles but a man that looked only about twenty. The man brought his hand to cup Stiles’s cheek and he flinched at the contact.

“Such a brave, little boy, protecting his mother from the big bad wolf.” He grinned, flashing his blood-stained teeth towards the boy. “You’d be a perfect addition to my pack.”

“Stiles, run.” His mother said and she pushed him towards the open field leading to the town. Stiles shook his head but she repeated the words louder. He took one last look at his mother and ran as fast as he could. Stiles could see the man following his younger self, the fear of him catching up felt all so real even if it was a dream. The man’s eyes kept flashing in between blue and scarlet, seemingly excited by the chase.

With every step Stiles took, the man got closer. He almost breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw his younger self just metres from the town, he was just a few steps away when he tripped. His foot caught on a root that peaked just inches above the ground and rolled to the ground. His whole body was littered with dirt and scratches with the fall.

The man slowed down to a walk once he realized Stiles had fallen. “Little red almost got away.” He tsked at Stiles as he tried to crawl away, the branches and rocks only digging more into his knees. The man gripped Stiles ankle so tightly he heard it crack and brought Stiles towards him. His younger self tried to struggle out of his hold, trying his best to ignore the pain that flushed through his body.

“It was a fun chase, now you’re mine.” His eyes flashed red before he dug his teeth into Stiles’s side. Younger Stiles let out a blood curdling scream as the teeth broke through skin and muscle. When the man pulled away, his vision was almost black. His body felt so weak and he was so tired.

“Little pup, my name is Peter, remember it well because I’m your alpha.”

Stiles felt like throwing up. Why didn’t he remember this? Sure, he remembered the bite marks but his dad had told him it was a stray animal that had made its way into town, not a bite from a werewolf. There was also the fact he was bitten by Derek’s uncle, it was the same man who took Scott from him.

 _“Being bitten is making someone part of the pack, so for us you become part of a crew.”_ Derek’s words rang in his head. He wasn’t human, he already got the bite.

 Peter had made _him_ pack but why wasn’t he taken like Scott? What else was he forgetting?

Stiles watched as his younger self passed out. He was half expecting to wake up but the dream continued. Peter went to grab the boy and cradled him in his arms like something precious rather than something he had forcefully taken. “You’ll make a wonderful wolf.”

Stiles followed Peter as he walked away with his younger self towards the forest. They walked until they reached the same field where they were before. He felt his mouth open in shock when he didn’t see his mother’s body there anymore. He was sure they were in the same place, the area where his mother had been lying was wet with blood but she was nowhere to be seen.

Peter dropped the boy softly onto the grass before sniffing the air. It seemed Peter had no idea where his mother went either and it was putting him on edge. Stiles wasn’t really sure what happened next, his mother appeared out of nowhere and stabbed Peter in the back. The man let out a howl and attacked blindly behind him but his mother was already gone and so was his younger self. Peter was left standing alone in the middle of the field with a wound bleeding from his back that wouldn’t heal.

When Stiles opened his eyes again, he found himself in a small house. His mother was placing a wet rag on his younger self’s head and singing a soft lullaby in polish. It was the same song that he had sung for Scott when he had fallen asleep on Stiles, the same song that he sang in the halls of his house. _This_ is when he had heard it.

The house they were in was not his own. The walls were made of wood and showed signs of rotting everywhere. The furniture was placed awkwardly and everything seemed out of place – the bed in the centre of the room, the only light hung from the far right corner, two drawers placed diagonally from each other. The only thing that didn’t look near breaking was the bed that Stiles was sleeping in. The boy was sweating profoundly, his breathing came in shallow pants and he could see the worried lines on his mother’s face. If only he could tell her that he would be fine, that this moment would pass.

“My baby.” She said sadly. She reached to grab his hand. “I’m so sorry, if only I were stronger.”

The boy began to cough, black blood escaping his lips between gasps of air. His mother’s expression barely changed, she just went to grab a piece of cloth to wipe the blood away. The coughing died down and Stiles’s eyes began to flutter. His eyes shone brightly when he opened them and an endless string of the word ‘alpha’ spewed from his lips.

Stiles felt sick. Was this how everyone else felt when they were first turned? Was this the life Scott, Isaac, Boyd, Erica, Danny and Jackson had to live while he was safe at home? And his eye colour, it wasn’t the bright gold or pure blue he had seen from the rest of the pack but the same honey colour he was so used to seeing.

“Shh, it’s okay baby, I got you.” She said as she ran her fingers through his hair. Stiles’s younger self would stop muttering though. His fingers raking across her back so roughly it broke skin, staining her white dress in fresh blood. His mother, however, made no move to step away; she just kept him snug in her arms.

Stiles had no idea how she was still alive, he could still see the wound Peter had given her bleeding and the new scars his younger self gave her only made it worse. She was losing too much blood.

Claudia didn’t stop petting his head until his arms slumped and his mumblings of alpha ceased. “It’s okay, it’ll all be okay.” His younger self drifted off into sleep again and he watched his mother place a kiss on his forehead before walking away. She only made it a few steps before falling, her body making a sickening thump as it hit the ground.

Stiles ran to his mother side calling her name over and over again. She was pale and barely breathing. _This_ , this is how his mother actually died and he felt sick that he had helped deliver her to her death.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He cried.

He watched as his mother’s breathing slowed down until it stopped completely.  Then he woke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another sorta short chapter...honestly I didn't really like this chapter very much but it needed to be there so...yea, I might rewrite it if I have time.  
> By the way, I'm SO SORRY for the late update, honestly it was a mixture of writer's block and work. Hopefully see you soon :)


	14. Chapter 14

Derek was woken from sleep harshly by the sound of Stiles’s screaming. Derek ran to his bedside and tried to hold him down as he thrashed in his hold. Derek couldn’t understand what he was saying, only understand the words ‘mother’ and ‘Peter’ amongst his screams. Scott and Isaac had run down and tried to help Derek in holding Stiles down. He continued for a few more minutes before he passed out from exhaustion.

“What the hell just happened?” Isaac asked, breathing harshly.

“I don’t know.” Derek said. He just couldn’t stop the pang of guilt that rose from his stomach because this was _his_ fault. It was his fault that Stiles was taken aboard this ship in the first place, it was his fault that Stiles had decided to help fight against the alphas and it was his fault that he couldn’t protect his pack well enough that Stiles had to jump in to protect him.

Stiles was safer away from him. Derek planted a soft kiss to his forehead and wrapped Stiles in tighter in the blankets. He rested his forehead on Stiles and whispered, “I love you.”

***

The next time Stiles woke up, he was alone. He shifted in his blankets, they were wrapped so tightly around him like they were trying to keep him safe. A pain in his side flared when he sat up. _The alphas._ He had almost forgotten why he was bedridden in the first place, he almost died protecting Derek and yet he didn’t feel an ounce of regret for doing so. It anyone asked he probably would do it again.

Stiles shuffled out of his bed, despite the pain, and walked out of his room. It was odd, at first he was held captive but now this ship felt like _home._ This room was _his,_ the crew was his family and Derek was his alpha – he had never felt freer.

When he walked up to the deck, he knew something was wrong – everything felt dead. For once, Scott didn’t rush up to him to give him a hug, Jackson didn’t mutter some insult about Stiles, and Derek didn’t come to give him a kiss like he had been doing recently. In fact, all they did was give him different levels of glares and looks of distaste.

“Good morning?” Stiles said. He didn’t know what was wrong but he had to give some sort of normality to the day. No one gave him a response, they just continued to do whatever they were doing on the ship.

“Hey Scott, what’s up with everyone today?” He said, running up to where Scott was pilling crates on top of each other to bring them inside. He didn’t say anything in response, just shrugged and continued stacking. Sties tried with each member individually but was given the same treatment, ending with Jackson shouting at him to drop the matter.

A feeling of emptiness crept up on him. These were the people he had become to think of as family but they were brushing him off. They were acting like he was nobody, like the last few weeks they spent together didn’t exist. It made him feel sick. The thought of him being only a hostage, _an item_ , to have an edge came flooding through his brain briefly before he flushed them away. They were pack, they had to be. He protected their alpha and Derek said he loved him for god’s sake.

Everything would be fine.

The ship door creaked as Derek opened it. Stiles could feel the relief flood through him. He rushed towards the man, completely forgetting the feeling of pain in his side and went to give him a kiss but when he saw the face he was making, Stiles stopped in his tracks.

The only word that could be used to describe Derek’s face is pure and utter disgust. This time Stiles could feel the bile rising from his throat. What happened? Why was Derek looking at him like this?

“Boyd, how soon will we make it to town?”

“Another hour or so, Alpha.”

“Town? Why are we going to town, Derek?” He went to touch his shoulder but Derek brushed his hand off.

“Don’t touch me.” He hissed.

“Derek?” Stiles voice was hesitant as he spoke the man’s name. This was not his Derek, the same Derek that kissed him until he was breathless, that held him close during the night, that gave him extra food when the pack took too much. No, this man was a stranger.

“What Stiles!” he shouted and Stiles cringed at the volume.

“What the hell is happening? Why are you acing like this!” Stiles shouted back, his sadness slowly being overwhelmed by anger. _He did not deserve to be treated like this._

“You want to know what happening? We just figured out you’re a deadweight. Turns out the navy has given up searching for you, most of them think you’re dead. So you’re useless to us. Not to mention now you had to get yourself fucking injured. After we make it to town, we’re leaving you there. You have no use for us, just go find someone who can bring you to your dad or hell just die there. I don’t care.”

Derek’s words were like a knife through his heart. He couldn’t stop the words from escaping. “I fucking helped you. I saved your life!”

Derek huffed, “No, I could’ve protected myself but you had to run in the way.”

“Then what about you saying you loved me, huh? What the hell was that?”

“Loved you? Stiles I never loved you, I just thought that was the easiest way of you coming along with us without a fuss. Sure I had to suffer a little bit because who could fall in love with a spastic idiot like you but I thought it was worth it at the time. Now, your nothing.”

Stiles was frozen, but his mind was racing as he stared at Derek. All of it had been a lie, Scott’s welcoming embrace, Jackson’s and Erica’s friendly banter, Danny’s smiles, Isaac’s and Boyd’s warm food and worse of all Derek’s love. Everything that used to anchor him just seemed to let go, snap like cords one by one until Stiles felt like his was drowning.

He thought heartbreak like this only happened once but he was wrong. Stiles was a walking tragedy, still being cursed for causing the death of his mother.

Stiles didn’t realize he was running until he found himself surrounded in darkness; he must’ve locked himself in a closet. The panic flared from his chest and ran throughout his body, making every part of him feel numb until he could barely remember how to breathe. Tears trailed down his face as he hopelessly gasped for breath – too fast to get enough oxygen in but just enough to keep him from passing out.

 _Breathe in – Breathe out._ The voice of Stiles dad rang in his head, but Stiles dad’s wasn’t _here._ No, there was no one here that cared about Stiles, everything was just a plot so he’d be on their side, so he would be compliant. The word was bitter, even as a thought.

His fast breaths turned slow and shaky and then fell back to normal pace. He hiccupped between gasps of air and tears.

Stiles’s dad was right all along – pirates were cruel, vicious and evil; they all deserved to be in jail or just die for all he cared. Especially the Hale pack.

***

The boat came to a stop, it felt weird not moving- he was so used to the pushing of wind and gentle rocking of waves. Everything was frozen, from the boat to the expression on his face. He didn’t bother looking at anyone. He didn’t want them to see the pain they caused him, it was probably evident on his face and he wasn’t sure what face he’d make if he saw Derek.

Stiles would be stronger than this, he would make it to town, reunite with his father somehow and one day capture the Hale pack and return the favour they gave him.

He refused to give them the power to hurt him anymore, especially since they didn’t care about his tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes, Derek blaming himself for everything and making stupid decisions because of guilt has always been my favourite. I'm sorry the chapters are shorter and I'm not updating as much but I'll probably get back to normal soon. I'm going to try to finish this story before school starts, or else I'll probably never update...
> 
> Hopefully see you all soon :)


	15. Chapter 15

Stiles realized how stupid his plan was as soon as he got off the ship. First off, he had absolutely no money so it’s not like he could buy himself food when he got hungry even if there were booths lining up every street. Stiles felt his stomach grumble at the smell of pies and fresh bread – he hadn’t eaten breakfast before he left.

Second, he had no idea where he was. Sure, that problem would be easily solved by just asking someone but what would he do from there? It’s not like anyone in this town would know who he is, and if he told everyone he was the son of the Navy Captain, he’d probably shipped off to the nut house for being hysterical because Stiles, if Derek told the truth, was supposed to be dead about a month ago.

His biggest problem would have to be that he was bleeding again. He must’ve broke his stitches before he left the ship and now his shirt was slowly absorbing the blood the bandages couldn’t keep in. Stiles had to find a way to get medical attention. He searched through the crowd, trying to find someone who probably not freak out too badly about the amount of blood Stiles was losing and know where the heck he could get a doctor that wouldn’t mind not being paid immediately.

Stiles walked around aimlessly, he had asked few people but none of them knew a doctor that didn’t care about money. People were assholes after all, Stiles had learned that first hand recently. He was about to give up when a man ran up to him.

He had to be in his late thirties, he didn’t have many wrinkles on his face but there were faint lines across his forehead and near his eyes. He wore a stark white coat over his clothing that only seemed to make him stick out from the crowd. _How did he not notice him before?_

“Hey? Are you okay? You’re bleeding a lot, I run a clinic down the street I can help you.”

“Holy shit, please.” Stiles didn’t care if this was a scam, if this was his chance of getting back home he’ll take it.

“What’s your name?”

“Stiles, yours?”

“Deaton.”

***

So, when Deaton said he ran a clinic, he failed to mention it was a veterinary clinic but if he was able to patch Stiles up he didn’t care. Stiles was led into a back room that was hidden behind the storage closet and if he was in a clearer mind, he would probably run away.

The room itself was a lot larger than Stiles expected from looking at the building from outside. The room was dimly lighted by a lamp hanging from the centre of the ceiling. Just below it was a metal operating table with an array of operating tools nearby. The room was also lined with cupboards, from the glass openings, he could see arrays of bottles filled with different colour powders or herbs.

“Stiles, I need you to lay down so I can redo your stitches.”

“Sure thing, doc.”

Stiles laid on the table, arms at his side. “Don’t you need me to take off my shirt or something?”

“Not unless you want to keep it, but I wouldn’t recommend it because it’s drenched in blood. It wasn’t important, was it?”

Stiles felt sick thinking about it. _Important?_ No, the shirt wasn’t important. It belonged to Scott, and now that he thought about it, lending him clothing was probably just another part of the ‘make Stiles compliant’ plan.

“No, the sooner it’s off me, the better. It’s no better than trash.”

Deaton nodded his head and cut through the material. His wound looked better compared to when he saw it the first time. The wound was red with fresh blood and the skin around the wound looked dry and irritated. It didn’t look too horrible but he knew if it was treated with care he would definitely get an infection.

The initial drop of the cleaning alcohol burned like fire. Deaton used a spare cloth to brush across the wound absorbing any excess blood and cleaning out the dirt that was left. Stiles tried his best to not cringe at every dab of the cloth but he couldn’t stop the hiss that escaped through his teeth when Death pressed down hard. The man didn’t even look slightly apologetic, he just continued to dab his soaked cloth until the white became pink.

Deaton threw the soiled cloth in the garbage can and came back with a needle and string.

“Okay, Stiles, I don’t have any anesthetic for humans on me so you’ll just have to bear with the pain for right now.”

The feel of the needle was anything but pleasant, even as the needle made its way outside of the skin Stiles could still feel it there. A tingling reminder. It took Stiles a while to figure out a way to ignore the pain as best as possible – breathing in and out in time of the needle. He was glad he wasn’t awake while they patched him up on the ship. It’s a type of pain he’d like to only feel once in his life.

Stiles only winced or muffled a whine of pain twice before he was patched up fully, overall, he didn’t think that was too bad.

“Stiles, do you have anywhere to stay tonight?”

“No, I just got kicked off a ship with nothing.”

“How about you stay with me for tonight, I have an extra room above the clinic.

Stiles’s eyes narrowed at the man. “Why?” The Stiles before might’ve taken the offer with no second thought but now he knew people were always looking for someone else to use. He couldn’t trust anyone, the only people he could ever trust were those waiting for him at home. _His family._

“Stiles, I’m not doing this for free, trust me.”

He had two decisions really, but the other wasn’t really a choice. “Okay, lead away.” He said, but he hoped he would find a way home soon. He didn’t want to be in the man’s debt any further.

***

Derek read the letter and breathed a sigh of relief. Stiles was okay. Deaton had patched him up and is housing him for the time being.

Deaton was a close friend of his mother when she had still been alive. He had been a man she had come to for council and helped his pack members control the shift when Talia had been busy running the ship rather than running her pack. Derek should’ve felt bad for using Deaton’s guilt of leaving Talia unprotected but he would do anything to make sure Stiles made it back home.

He took the pieces of paper and tore it up before throwing it to the waters to swallow.

Derek would be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t all nerves after Stiles had left the ship. At first he thought he was just worried about Stiles because both he and his wolf recognized him as pack but then he started to lose control of himself during training and when the full moon decorated the sky. The night he realized what Stiles was to him, he laughed hysterically. Stiles was his anchor and he just sent the only thing that kept him grounded away.

The pack started getting angsty too, feeling a strand of the pack bond thin put all the wolves on edge. It made it worse that they couldn’t see Stiles and therefore couldn’t fix anything. More often than not, they slept in the kitchen with Stiles’s sheets so they could be given the illusion that he was still with them. Derek stopped wearing his clothing that didn’t smell like Stiles and got irritated when the pack sniffed the clothing because it overlaid their scent over his.  

Derek jumped at the hand on his shoulder that shook him out of his thoughts.

“Derek, ships are coming, a whole lot of them.” Isaac said.

From the horizon, Derek could see four ships coming towards them. Even without his binoculars he knew the flags donned the ships – The Alphas.

“Fuck.” Derek swore underneath his breath. They barely won just fighting four alphas, there was no where they would win fighting four alphas and their whole crew, especially now that they had lost a member of their crew. There was no escape, the winds were pushing them towards the ships and turning around now would be risky.

“Scott! Jackson! Get ready the canons, the rest of you get ready to fight. If there’s a chance we’re making it out alive we’re going to take it.”

The ships slowly made their way towards theirs, the canon fire not even slowing them down. When the ships stopped, everyone was on alert. They could smell the alphas in the air but there was no one to be seen on the ship, not even the crews of the alphas.

“Guys, are you sure they’re –“Jackson was cut off abruptly by Kali landing behind him and digging her claws into his side. A howl of pain escaped his lips and the pack rushed to his assistance but were stopped by Ethan and Aiden. They snarled at the betas, separating them in half at different ends of the ship.

Derek knew his attention should be on his betas, but he couldn’t draw his eyes from the man who was casually coming aboard his ship using a cane as his guiding tool.

“Hello, Derek, it’s nice to finally meet you.” He said with a thick accent.

Derek launched himself at the man. It was clear this was the alpha of the alphas – just the way he stood showed the power he had, even if he seemed blind. Derek found himself knocked against the side of his ship the next instant, his betas shouting out his name.

“Now that was just rude.” He slowly walked towards where Derek laid against the ship. Deucalion flicked his cane and a sharp blade appeared from the tip. “I think someone needs to relearn his manners.” He continued then stabbed his cane through Derek’s stomach. Derek spat out the blood that flooded his mouth.

“Much better. Now, I have someone who wants to meet you.”

Derek raised his eyes to look at the figure that was slowly approaching him. When he realized who it was his blood ran cold.

“Peter?” He choked out.

“Long time no see, Derek.” Peter grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more weeks until I'm done work!!!  
> Thanks for all the comments/bookmarks/kudos, they really make my day. :)
> 
> Hopefully see you soon


	16. Chapter 16

Derek could feel the deep fear settling into his gut. His uncle was alive. He stood above Derek, grinning like he had just won the war and he had hadn’t he.

“I would love to give you a hug to add to this heart-warming reunion but it seems you’re a little…pinned down at the moment.”

Derek flashed his red eyes but that only gained him a chuckle from Peter. “Still acting like the big bad alpha, I see. But in reality you’re no better than a mutt.”

“What do you want Peter?” He forced the words out of his mouth, watching his uncle walk around the ship.

“I want a pack Derek, I want to rule the seas again. I want people to fear the Hale name once more. And most of all, I want to be the alpha.” Peter walked up to Derek and crouched down beside him.

“Too bad it was all given to you.” He pushed down on the cane that impaled Derek causing him to choke on the new blood that rushed to his mouth.

“It’s a shame really, if it was any other wolf I would’ve taken it easily, but you’re family and no one wants to hurt their family.” This time it was claws that were making their way through flesh rather than the cane. “But what has to be done has to be done.”

“Then just get over with it.” It’s not like Derek had any chance of winning now. His pack was held down by the alpha pack’s crew and Derek had no way of moving without tearing his wound further. If Stiles was here he’d find a way. He’d know how to command his pack and find a way _out_ but he couldn’t, not when he wasn’t there. A part of him was thankful of that fact, that he had gotten Stiles out and safe before he landed in Peter’s clutches, Stiles deserved better.

“Oh Derek, I can’t do that just yet. I have to deliver you and Stiles to the poor Navy Captain.” Derek could see it in his eyes, the raw hunger he possessed when he was alpha. “Where would he be?”

Derek’s throat contracted, _could he lie?_ He knew it wouldn’t be entirely impossible, he knew how to lie to werewolves – using half-truths so the heart didn’t jump. In the end it wouldn’t really matter if he _could_ because this was the only way to keep Stiles safe. Derek couldn't have anyone else's blood on his hands.

 “We killed him.” Derek glared at his uncle. A part of him thought this was the truth anyways so it wasn't that far of a stretch. They had killed him the day they pushed him away because even Derek knew not all deaths were physical.

Peter was on him in an instant, removing the cane and dragging him by the collar of his shirt so Derek was face to face with Peter. “You’re lying.” He said but Derek shook his head. Peter stared at him levelly before dropping him back onto the ground, grinding the cane on the side of his stomach before piercing it. Derek screamed as the fresh pain flooded his system.  _At least it's only him being hurt._ He thought.

“Deucalion, would you be so kind to bring Erica and Boyd to us?” Peter asked.

Kali and Aiden dragged both of them until they were kneeling before Peter’s feet. “See, I think you’re lying to me. Don’t think I haven’t heard about your…connection with the boy. I can’t risk killing you but your betas, they are replaceable.” Peter grabbed Boyd by his shirt and pierced his claw through his leg. The blood spread across his pants and dripped onto the wooden deck. Then his claws slashed across his stomach, chest, face, arms – all bleeding for a short time before they closed and mended to fresh skin. Erica was screaming, begging him to stop but Boyd never uttered a sound, he only looked at Derek with an expression of hope but that only made things worse.

Derek couldn’t save anybody.

“It could be over so quickly if you just tell me where Stiles is.” Peter asked soothingly while he looked at Erica. “You wouldn’t want Boyd hurt anymore, would you?” He punctuated the last two words with deep scratches across Boyd’s chest. Even as a werewolf, if this continued, there would be no way for him to survive. He might heal but that didn’t help with the amount of blood he was losing. It was replenishing fast within his body but not fast enough.

Erica was a crying mess on the ground, muttering pleas of ‘no’ but Peter continued. It was only when Boyd started to droop in Peter’s hold that Erica screamed the words he was looking for.

“B-Beacon Hills, we left him there. He’s alive, just stop, please, please just stop.”

Peter dropped Boyd as soon as the words flew from her mouth. Erica ran to Boyd and covered his body with her own. Boyd brushed the stray strands of her hair behind her ear. He didn’t look mad that she had given Stiles away but sad. Sad that because of their bond she was put through a torture almost as bad as he went through.

“That wasn’t too hard, was it?” He said and cleaned his bloody claws with a handkerchief. “Now, let’s turn this ship around and pay a visit to Beacon Hills.”

***

Stiles hadn’t had a good sleep for days, he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t missed the bed he’d slept on in the ship but it wasn’t just that. He couldn’t sleep because every time he closed his eyes he was gifted the sight of the soft smiles Derek gave him in the middle of the night, the looks he would give Stiles when he thought he wasn’t looking and worse of all, the look of distain he had given Stiles before he was kicked off the ship. But he figured it was a good thing, this way he was able to plan longer. He had sent letters to Lydia and was now waiting for her reply. Lydia and not his dad – his dad would call the whole navy to bring him back and he would never get the revenge his heart craved, but Lydia would allow him his whims, even giving him a path to follow to direct him to the best solution.

In the letter, he had wrote about the Hales and his crew, although not about the werewolf factor. While the ink bled into the pages he wrote about what they had done to betray him and what he had seen during his travels. He had also wrote about Deaton and how the man had saved him from bleeding out – he would repay his debts even if the man said he had none to pay. The letter was nearly twenty pages by the time he was done and he had sent it off with a carrier ship. His return letter was due anytime soon, unless Lydia came herself to knock some sense into Stiles before blowing up the Hale ship herself.

If Stiles was being honest, either option would be good. He had already been staying with Deaton for nearly a month and it was getting ridiculous how much he was taking from this man who shook his head every time Stiles offered him _something_ to repay the favour.

Stiles walked to the dining room where there was a fluffy piece of bread and soup waiting for him. He usually skipped the bread completely, favouring the broth, because swallowing the bread was like swallowing salt. It was too similar to the life he lived on the ship – he had no idea how he would deal with fruit, and the first time he tried to eat it, he hacked it up into the garbage. Deaton still prepares bread for him just in case.

It was only when he sat down did he notice the letter sitting beside the bowl of soup. ‘To Stiles’ the envelope said with curled letters, in such a delicate fashion that only spelt Lydia to him. In his haste, he almost spilt his soup when he reached for the letter. He opened it carelessly, not worrying about the package it came in, only the words that were held inside.

Reading every word was like a breath of relief. His father was fine, although a little more than stressed, Lydia had only told Allison where he was – she’d save his dad and Chris for a later date, and most important she’d help if he decided to seek revenge on the Hales. The only thing she had to question about was Deaton and reading the information only confused him.

_‘Stiles, think for a second. Deaton was a prized consultant of the Hale pack when Talia was Captain, what would he be doing helping you? There’s something you’re missing.’_

Stiles’s hand was shaking as he held the letter. Deaton _knew_ Derek. It was so easy to piece it together now, the reason Deaton had never asked for anything in return. He was doing this for Derek.

Stiles slammed his fist on the desk causing the plates and bowl to rattle against the table and crumbled the letter in his hand. “You idiot, this wasn’t the only way to keep me safe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so sorry that I haven't updated this in a long time. I haven't dropped it and I'm definitely going to finish this before I have to go back to school. University has been really draining me so I didn't have much time for myself, let alone time to write. 
> 
> See you all soon


	17. Chapter 17

Stiles reread the words over and over again. He didn't know whether to feel relieved or angry. On one end Derek and everyone else didn't hate him but on the other they didn't trust him enough to tell him the truth. What was Derek even thinking of protecting Stiles from? The alpha pack? They had won that fight, hadn't they? Well, he had gotten hurt, and still has the marks to prove it, but he was alive and was pretty sure that counted as a win.

Maybe that was it. Derek had always been a martyr, giving up everything for the sake of pack, maybe he thought it was better to give up Stiles because in the end, that's what he thought was the best for the pack - for Stiles. He needed answers and there was only one other person he could get it from. He ran up the stairs and faced the looming wooden door of Deaton's room. The door was chipped at the edges and the handle looked barely intact but he never noticed before the little claw marks by the bottom of the door or the powder that lined the frame. Deaton was a part of this and now it was so easy to see. Stiles banged on the door once before pulling his hand away in pain. 'What the hell is his door made out of, because it definitely didn't feel like wood?' he thought to himself.

"Deaton, I need to talk to you." he yelled.

He continued calling for a few more seconds before Deaton opened the door with a bleary expression. "Stiles, what can I do for you?" 

"You can start by explaining your relationship with the Hales." He said in a clipped tone. To say Deaton was surprised would've been an exaggeration, in fact he only looked mildly pleased and exasperated. Stiles tended to have that effect on many people. 

"How did you figure it out?"

"So your not even going to deny that you had any contact with them at all." 

"Stiles, I maintain balance in this world, with you being here the balance is shifted. If anything, I was hoping you would be able to put some sense in your alpha's head if you knew."

"He's not my alpha." Stiles whispered. He was given a soft look in return before being beckoned into Deaton's room. His room wasn't very different from Stiles's room, it contained a medium sized bed with rumpled sheets, a small chair that sat by a desk with stacks of books laying on it and a lamp that hung high on the ceiling. The sound of water dropping onto the tin bucket rang through the room like clockwork. It wasn't an annoying sound but it was setting Stiles off on edge, he had no idea how Deaton lived with the sound every day. He was beckoned into a chair and he sunk into the cushion seat. Deaton looked at Stiles pushing him to ask whatever questions he had on the tip of his tongue. 

"What does Derek have to do with this and what's happened to him now?" Stiles hoped he kept the worry from his voice but he knew that it wasn't possible. He couldn't say that he didn't care about them, especially with the thin strand of hope that they didn't hate him. It was the only way out of the dark hole of seclusion he had dug himself into.

Deaton rubbed his temples and signed deeply, "Stiles, I'm not too sure where you want me to start." 

"From the beginning."

Deaton stared at Stiles before he began, "Derek had kept in contact with me ever since  Peter became alpha, and by law, their captain. Through Talia, I knew Peter should never become and alpha, so I had advised Talia to pass the powers onto Laura. It wouldn't have been a difficult task, she was bred to be an alpha from the day she was born. Laura and I kept in contact as she needed advice more often than not, but she was definitely the leader the Hale pack needed. I would recieve the letters like clockwork once she had settled in her role, just meaningless conversations about the day. They often reminded me of the days when Talia and I sailed together, long before her pack was grown. But, they stopped coming." He took a long sip of his tea.

"That was when Peter killed Laura." Stiles said, piecing his words together. Deaton nodded in confirmation.

"I received a letter a year after that, light in weight but very, very important. Derek had finally located me and after the long challenge of getting Peter to trust him, and found the time to write a message. He spoke of the crimes Peter had done not only as a captain but also an alpha. It was my fault, I should have been more watchful; they were my responsibility. Derek never blamed me, even though I did, he only asked for help. So I devised a plan to kill Peter, it was long and would take time but it worked and now Derek stands as the alpha and captain of the Hales. He promised he would leave me to live my life here, not wanting anyone, especially those related to Peter, to figure out the connection. That was, until he met you."

Stiles knew it, all along Derek was just trying to protect him, even if he had broken him in the process. But why couldn't he understand that Stiles could protect himself, hell, he was perfectly fine when they fought against the alphas. Well, up until the point when he was impaled but that was besides the point. 

"Stiles, I have a question for you now. How come you only knocked once?"

He was caught off guard. Why would it matter if he only knocked once? It was just a door. "Uhh, cause when I knocked the first time my hand hurt like hell. What is that door made of anyways, steel?" Deatons face grew curious and stared at Stiles with wonder.

"No, not steel, mountain ash. Which makes me wonder why it affected you. You weren't bitten by Derek on the ship, correct?" Stiles shook his head. "So you weren't bitten by Derek but you're still not quite human."

"Last time I checked, I definitely wasn't getting furry once every month, so I'm sorry doc, whatever you're thinking of probably isn't right. Maybe I just have delicate hands. There was a time when I touched a herb in the market and ended up with hives and swollen palms, it's probably just another similar incidence." he rambled.

"Stiles," Deaton repeated slower, more cautiously, "were you bitten by someone, someone other than Derek or anyone from the Alpha pack?" 

He nodded, holding his side where the bite marks still felt fresh, the ones that refused to heal after all the years that passed by. "I was bitten by Peter." he whispered. He hated how soft his voice sounded, how weak he sounded. How weak he was. 

The sound of the desk shrieking as it slid against the floor made Stiles jump. Deaton was standing now, eyes wide with horror. He then rushed to his drawers pulling out each with haste. Stray paper drifted onto the floor until the area around his desk had become matted with paper. He stopped only when he found a letter. It was small and bound with red string, in the centre a triskelion was placed and remained seamless. He turned he letter around before looking at the date. "Stiles I need you to remember something, it is very important that you do not leave out anything and tell me the truth." Stiles nodded, unsure of what Deaton was going to ask but it couldn't be life threatening. He promised Derek.

"On February 16, did you come across a fever that didn't affect anyone else in your household or village." Again, Stiles nodded but the answer didn't seem to put Deaton at ease. He remembered the fever well, it nearly put his dad into the health wing due to shock. One day he was fine, then the next he was throwing up without any relief. He wouldn't eat, couldn't sleep and hadn't made contact with the outside world for months. Then he went missing for a week, no one had heard from him and the village went into panic, his dad ignoring his job just to look for his son. A pang of guilt rushed through him, his dad was probably feeling the same thing right now, all because he decided to take a walk. 

"Did you disappear for a while, any amount of time?" Stiles looked at him oddly, it was like he knew about Stiles getting sick and the whole story already but he continued to ask anyways.

"Yea, for a week and when I came back I was totally fine."

Deaton dropped the letter and Stiles watched it as it fluttered to the ground. "Stiles we got to move. Now." Deaton ran across the room packing all the things he thought were important. He shuffled over the pieces of paper, leaving footprints over the delicate text. "We got to go."

"Why?" Stiles tried his hardest not to scream in frustration. Deaton stopped his packing for a brief second. "Stiles, when you were gone for that week, it wasn't for nothing. I told Derek to make sure he had everyone that was bitten but clearly he didn't know about you. Your sickness was caused by your alpha dying. By Peter dying. I am certain that when you left for that one week you found a way to revive Peter from his death bed. Maybe that's why your spark is so weak, the flame that was born when you became a werewolf. You never solidified a bond with an alpha and you used quite a bit of it when reviving Peter."

"Wait, he's alive?"

"Yes and that would also make sense about why the Alpha pack attacked your ship. Peter was orchestrating the whole ordeal." 

"Then we can't run if Peter is coming, what if something happened to Derek?"

Deaton rested his hands on Stiles shoulders, "Stiles, he's going to be looking for you, his wolf knows you're pack and worse things will happen to Derek and his pack if Peter gets a hold onto you." 

Stiles grabbed Deaton's sleaves and stressed his words. "But we cannot leave him."

Deaton sighed in resignation, "Stiles, what do you think we are going to do, its not like we can call in the navy. They won't believe us when we tell them Peter is alive. He was proved dead and missing."

"What if I had someone who would believe us, people that will help us without a second thought." Deaton looked interested at the possibility. "I've been keeping in contact with my friend Lydia, she would believe me no matter what I tell her. Trust me, she can make up a story to bring my father and his men here. Just hopefully in time."

Deaton stayed silent for a second before nodding his head. "Okay, but we got to be quick. At best we might have a week, I'll start preparing the house."

Stiles picked up a fallen sheet of paper along with a pen and started to write the letter. Lydia was going to have a lot of explaining to do. 

*****

It was dark. Darker than anything Derek could ever remember. Peter had cut him from his pack and stored him in Laura's old room, the one where they had kept Stiles while he was on the ship. It was suffocating. Whenever he drifted off into sleep his senses would force him awake in the anticipation of Stiles, because he had to be there, it smelt so much like him. When he opened his eyes, he was greeted by nothingness. It was a stab in the gut far worse than Peter jabbing the pole into his stomach. At least that wound healed, this felt like constant torture.

Derek could make out words from above the deck every once in a while. He knew they were closing in on Stiles, the closest time being in two days, the furthest being five, and there was nothing he could do about it. Deaton probably had no idea Peter was even alive. Hell, Derek didn't even know. 

Some days Derek wished that Peter would put him out of his misery. Why hasn't he? Did he want Derek to suffer, was he waiting for the right time? Or was he gloating, proving that Peter was always the rightful alpha and captain and Derek shouldn't have even bothered. 

The rest of his pack seemed to be suffering too. Issac has been locked back into the room for disobeying, Erica had become target of the Alpha pack so much he had heard Boyd howling a few nights ago. He hasn't heard a word from Danny or Jackson since he had been put away and Scott had shut himself in. He brought some food in his room and shut it completely. He knew from the beginning that Scott's room was surrounded by mountain ash but Scott had requested the room when he was first bitten, as long as he held onto the key no one could get inside. At least he was still safe, well, until he runs out of food to eat.

Derek breathed in deeply through his mouth once more before closing his eyes. Everything is going to hell and he hoped when he fell that he wasn't going to drag down anyone with him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year !!! :D


	18. Chapter 18

For the last four days Stiles and Deaton had rearranged their living space. Deaton had surrounded the forest enclosing their house with wards carved into trees and Stiles laid down patches of mountain ash in neat circles, just in case they were required to flee from the house. The passing days didn't help with Stiles nerves, he kept wondering when people would attack and if his father would arrive in time. The worst was when he thought of what was happening to his friends. Scott had told him stories within his room during the calm days on the ship. Peter was not one to hold back his actions in order to get something he wanted, Stiles was sure about that after hearing what he had done to everyone on the ship while he was captain. He was ambitious, cunning and Stiles wasn't sure they would be able to handle him ontop of the Alpha pack. As much as he trusted his pack, they relied more on fair methods of attack: fighting strategically, offering forgiveness and equal playing fields. Peter and Deucalion looked for the weak points and made sure to sink their claws in deep. Deaton tried to tell him not to worry but they were received by deaf ears. Stiles hadn't receive any message from Lydia saying that they would be there, hell, by the time she got the letter it would still be another week before their father came in time anyways. 

"Stiles you need to calm down." Deaton had said that to him so many times during the week. Most of the time he hadn't even realized how much he was freaking out until he looked at the small red crescents his fingernails had made in his hand or the uneven circles he made in the ground. Sometimes his worries overpowered the thoughts in his head. Those were the days he blamed himself for not being stronger, for not being good enough. On those days, Deaton would have to sit him down by the tree that towered behind his house and instruct Stiles how to breathe. Somehow, he always felt better. 

The sun was just starting to set and they both packed up their things to call it a day. Stiles hoped they were secure enough. Deaton had warded all the trees till the end of the forest and Stiles had placed patches of mountain ash every half kilometre and another large ring around the whole house. It was amazing he had just finished the small bottle of ash today, there must've been more in there than he had first thought or Deaton was refilling it after Stiles went to sleep. 

"Stiles, come in and have dinner." Deaton said and walked towards the door holding all of his equipment. With one last look towards the edge of the forest, Stiles followed. The dinner was nothing special. It hadn't been for a while. Neither of them were able to go into the town, not with the fear of being separated and captured, and even if they went together they wouldn't have the same amount of safety they would have within the house. They had only dried foods and some bread left, if no one came, sooner or later, they would have to venture out to town and take the risk. Stiles and Deaton had already cut out a lot of food from their diet but he could still see the slow decline of food. But Stiles took what he could get, he had dragged Deaton into this and he would not run away leaving him to fend for himself, even if it seemed like he would be able to. The man was far stronger than he looked.

After Stiles had finished the food, he muttered a good night to Deaton and climbed the stairs to the room being lent to him. His relationship with sleep has been odd, some days he was so tired he would drop onto the bed and sleep, others he wouldn't be able to sleep on hours on end. It seemed like today would be one of the latter. Since this morning, everything had been irritating him. He would go outside and smell sea water instead of grass or feel the sunlight burning his skin even though he was covered by the trees surrounding him. The worst was when he woke up, he was so sure he had felt Derek's voice whisper his name and his hand smooth down his back, like he had done so many times before when he was on the ship. But he was alone. 

The sheets smelled like sea water again, and he was so sick and tired of his mind playing tricks on him. He had wished so many times that he could be back with his friends, his family, his pack but the only gift he received was his senses playing tricks on him. He hadn't told Deaton, refused to tell him because the man was already worrying enough, not to mention he wasn't sure if he would be able to get a full answer out from him. That man was always a little cryptic. 

Stiles closed his eyes only to hear the sound of someone running up the stairs and shouting his name. He groaned at the sound and how it made his headache worse...'When did he get a headache?' The blanket was thrown off him and hands grabbed at his body, pulling him up. "D-Deaton? What's wrong?" 

"They're here, we got to get out of here before it's too late. The first wards have already gone off and I'm not sure how much time we have left. I've had one of my associates prepare a ship for us, it's already at the dock. We have to get there as soon as possible. Stiles nodded and put on his shoes before running after Deaton down the stairs. Every step caused his head to throb more. It felt like someone was bringing a hammer to his head and smashing down on his skull. He felt a wave of nausea hit him when he left the house. His mouth tasted like blood and his wrists burned like they were tied up. All he could smell was rotting wood and something else he couldn't put his finger on. It encompassed his entire being and he could barely hear Deaton calling him and yelling for him to run. 

He didn't want to run.

The next thing he knew, Deaton was in front of him holding him by his shoulders. "Stiles, you have to snap out of this. I knew it would happen if Peter got close. He's calling for you but you can't listen to him. We have to get out." he paused, thinking what to say next. "Do it for Derek." 

It felt like all the cords had snapped, his headache was still there but the rest of his mind was clear. He nodded then ran towards the direction of the shore. He knew where the shore was, Deaton had showed it to him on the first day when they realized Peter was coming for them. It was their back-up plan just in case Stiles's father did not make it in time. Better to be on the run than dead. 

The run to shore wasn't too long and both of them had rushed onto the small ship. Their shoes thumped against the wood as they climbed and Stiles fell into a tumbled mess on the deck. He couldn't bring himself to care about the pain in his shoulder, he held onto the thought that as soon as they set sail they were going to be safe for a while longer. His head throbbed with every movement he made, he had been hopeful that the pain would stop but it came back stronger than before. Just as Deaton pulled the anchor in Stiles fell to his knees and screamed while clutching his head. It hurt, it hurt so much, he could barely feel anything other than the pain in his head. Deaton had told him it was a pull from Peter but this wasn't Peter calling him, this was Peter punishing him. Punishing him for leaving and now that he was close, it was so easy for him to do. 

Stiles couldn't hear anything around him, he could only focus on a constant tap of sound. A heartbeat? Footsteps? The next thing he knew, fingers were running across his hair and down to the back of his neck, gripping it tightly. He winced at the feel. It was a similar touch that most of the pack had done to him when he was still a captive but this was different. It felt rough and all-consuming. Like he was required to be obedient without question. And although he hated it, it made the headaches stop so he relaxed in the hold.

The man who was holding his neck was tsking at Stiles. "That's no way to greet your alpha is it."

Stiles looked up at the man and felt all the blood drain from him. "Peter?" he whispered, a part of him hoped he was wrong, that this was all a dream and he was still with Deaton, with Derek, with his dad. Peter gave him a predatory smile that was more fangs than teeth.

"Nice to see you again, Stiles." 

***

Derek was crying. He didn't know why but a sudden feeling of grief had overwhelmed him suddenly. The last few days had been hell, he had heard the cries and screams of his betas pleading for their alpha only to be beaten by whoever was closest to them. Scott had run out of food a few days ago and ran to the kitchen to restock only to run into Peter. He had made sure Scott wasn't going to disobey him again, Derek could almost feel the thread that connected the two of them together almost snap. It was still so weak, even now. He couldn't even imagine what Peter had done to him. Even when Peter was captain he had never harmed Derek, said it was because they were a family but even back then he knew it was a lie. In the end Peter took if he wanted, and now he was going to take everything from Derek because he had what Peter wanted. 

Ever since Erica had told Peter where to find Stiles someone from the alpha pack would beat him ruthlessly. He healed faster than his betas but it still didn't change the fact that it hurt. Some nights after a beating he would dream of Stiles's warm body beside him, running his fingers through his hair and Stiles's face pressed flush against his chest. It was those moments that he could forget about the blood that lined his mouth or about the damp wood his face was constantly shoved against. 

How much would have changed if he had kept Stiles here, or if he had been just a little stronger. He had never felt so complete with his pack and Stiles at his side, and it made him wonder if that's why Peter wanted him so bad. He filled the holes of the pack like glue but he was viscous when he needed to be like he was already more wolf than man. Maybe he acted like that because he was. The thought of the bite against Stiles's side made him retch. He was a wolf for another alpha, Stiles never belonged to his pack. A small part of him had hoped that Peter had been the one to bite him, at least if that was the case then he would still be a Hale but that was selfish thinking. 

The sound of the door opening broke Derek from his thoughts. It wasn't another alpha, this time it was Erica holding a small plate of food. Her tears were barely stopped from flowing free. "I'm so sorry." She whispered and Derek barely had enough energy to shake his head, to tell her it wasn't her fault. This was all on him. This was only happening because Derek failed to kill his uncle. Erica pulled out a cloth from her pockets and did her best to wipe off the crusted blood off his face. After most of it was cleaned she spoon fed him his food at a slow pace. They both knew it was because she needed the comfort of being around her alpha but neither of them said anything about it. 

When the food was finished, Erica struggled to get up. Derek figured that she had taken too long and was going to be punished by Peter, and the thought punched him in the gut. She didn't show Derek her fear though, because she knew how much it would rip him apart. She brought up the tray and the cutlery clattered against the plate. She stood by the door for a few seconds, Derek watched her breathe in and out slowly - it was oddly comforting. 

"They've arrived and Peter is going to take Stiles today." were the last words to exit her mouth before she closed to door. He felt himself shatter. Once again, Derek was alone, only with Erica's words running through his mind as company. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this was so late again. Uni has been literally hell and I'm stuck in this math proof course where I have no idea what I'm doing. The worst part is that the course is mandatory for my field of study :(. Anyways, enough about me, I hope you guys enjoy reading this chapter and see you next time :)


	19. Chapter 19

No, no, no this wasn’t happening. Peter placed his claws against Stiles’s chin forcing him to look at Peter in the eye. “Now is that the way to greet your alpha. I guess this is what happens when you aren’t taught properly.” Stiles couldn’t help the shiver that ran through his body. There was something underlying Peter’s words, something that made him want to offer his throat. It was unnerving.

Peter drew his claws back and glowered at Stiles. “Forever disobedient. I’ll have to fix that but we’ll have more time for that later. Right now, we’re going to have a little fun.”

Stiles refused to look away from Peter but that didn’t stop him from hearing what was going around him. It sounded like they were bringing something closer. Someone? The sounds of chains dragging on the chipped wood sounded like screams to him. He refused to turn or flinch though, not while he refused to lose this battle with Peter.

He wanted to win not only the war but every battle in between.

But his hopes were short-lived. The cacophony of the chains scrapping against the floor was joined by muffled grunts. It couldn’t be. He was supposed to be safe. Stiles shifted his vision in a sudden motion and saw Derek. Chains wrapped around his form and bruised his skin, Stiles took note of every splatter of dried blood and chapped skin on the man.  Seeing him was like breathing a rush of cold air, stuck between the elated feeling of him being near and the rush of pain when seeing him hurt.

“Stiles, I believe you already know my dear nephew. From what I’ve heard, you two have gotten quite…close in my time away.”

 _Away._ If it wasn’t for Stiles he would still be ‘away’, buried deep underground. If it wasn’t for him Derek wouldn’t be hurt, his pack wouldn’t be hurt and just maybe Stiles would still be happy with them. Stiles didn’t bother looking at him when he responded. “Is away the new term for dead? Oh, unless you meant you were visiting home. Tell me, how is hell now a day?”

Even if Stiles wasn’t looking at Peter he figured Peter was grimacing at him. At least that’s what Derek’s feared look told him. “That wasn’t too nice of you to say.” Peter made a slight hand motion and Kali ran her claws against Derek’s back. Stiles screamed in agony, Derek’s pain feeling like his own.

“Stop, please stop. Don’t hurt him.” Stiles was surprised his voice didn’t waver much especially as the sounds of Derek’s pained whines ran through his ears. Peter knelt down to Stiles’s level, one hand went down to grip the back of his neck and the other ran continuous strokes down his head like he was comforting a child. The touch made him feel nauseous, this wasn’t right. Peter’s hands didn’t feel the same. Derek’s were hardened by everyday work on the ship but his touch held a certain gentleness to it, like he was afraid that everything he touched would break. It wasn’t the touch of his alpha, but he couldn’t bring himself to brush it off. This must be the connection Scott had told him about all those nights before, the same connection that made them do things against his will.

“I’m not going to hurt him. You are.” Stiles felt his blood freeze. He couldn’t hurt Derek, no matter what he had to sacrifice. He would sooner die than be the reason why Derek took his last breath. “No.” His voice was barely a whisper but he knew everyone heard him – they were werewolves after all.

“I’m not going to give you much of a choice.” Peter walked behind Stiles, the hand once stroking Stiles’s head gripped his wrist. Kali dropped Derek in front of Stiles, close enough that they were face to face, and went back to the rest of her pack. Being so near Derek made his heart flutter, even after all he had done all he was trying to do was protect Stiles. He couldn’t bring himself to hate Derek.

“I’m sorry.” Derek whispered, lips so close he could feel the words on his lips. It took every part of his will to not bend forward and press him lips against his again. To feel the liberation that came with being around Derek, the freedom of being wrapped in his arms. Stiles shook his head. This wasn’t Derek’s fault, if he knew whose fault this was, Derek would loathe him.

Stiles felt warm breath run against his ear. “Come on, Stiles, I know you remember how to do this. Show us those pretty claws of yours.” Peter swung Stiles’s wrist and he watched in amazement as sharp claws peaked out of the tips. “I was hopeful but I didn’t think that was still possible. It must be because you’ve been away from her for so long.”

Derek look at Stiles in shock while he turned his head away. He guessed the cat was out of the bag, Derek was smart enough to put two and two together. Stiles was bitten by Peter all those years ago. When he looked back, Stiles was greeted by a look of surprise. He barely heard Derek whispers, ‘So you belonged to us all along.’ Stiles wanted to tell him that he should’ve known that and was an idiot for thinking otherwise, he chose who he belonged to. No bite would’ve changed that.

Peter tapped at Stiles’s claws. “Always so full of surprises. I knew I should’ve brought her with me, would’ve made this game so much more fun. But now Stiles, we’re going to take these pretty little claws of yours and run them through my dear nephew. Your bond is a little too strong for my liking and I still need to teach you a lesson. It won’t kill him of course, I need to do the finishing blow.”

Stiles shook his head. “I won’t hurt him.” Peter chuckled in his ear. “Oh, sweetie, like you’ve ever had a choice.” Peter gripped Stiles’s wrists tighter and thrusted his claws at Derek. Stiles shut his eyes, the last thing he saw was Derek’s look of sadness. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, the sound of him whispering sorry running through his head like a broken record player. Like any of this was Derek’s fault, he didn’t have anything to be sorry about. Stiles felt the warm rush of blood splash against him, only against the back of his neck rather than running down in rivets from his fingers.

The grip on Stiles’s neck loosened enough for him to turn around. When he turned he saw every member of the alpha pack was trapped within circles of mountain ash and an arrow through Peter’s head. He would’ve known that arrow anywhere, the crisp feathered ends used to balance the rest of the weapon. Ally. Stiles felt himself breathe a sigh of relief. They came for him, they came in time.  The sharp sound of heals against wood came closer and Stiles felt his claws receding. When he glanced up he came face to face with Lydia, but she wasn’t looking at him. She was looking at Peter.

“I told you I would kill you myself if you tried anything.” And with that Lydia took her sword and cut Peter’s head clean off his shoulders. “Chris, gather up the Alphas, if they resist put a bullet through their heads.” Lydia said. She turned back to Stiles and he thought he would get whiplash from the range of emotions she was going through. She cradled him in her arms and whispered arrays of apologies.

“How did you know?” Lydia pushed back Stiles so she could looked at him. “Stiles, I was there with you that day. The day we brought Peter back. He needed the both of us, you forgot but I always remembered. I couldn’t stop feeling your blood dripping from my hands and couldn’t stop seeing you dying. You almost died, but you came back without claws and glowing eyes and I thought everything was a dream until he came back.”

“Why are they back then?” Stiles looked quickly to his hands before back to Lydia but she looked just as confused as he was.

“She was blocking them from coming back. At least when you two were close enough. The bond you two shared cancelled out Stiles’s abilities, she was keeping what she had ‘killed’ that day dead. She tried to kill the wolf in you but it was still alive, waiting to get far enough away to live again. It’s happened only once before.” Deaton responded from where he stood on the ship.

“So, I’m a wolf?”

“Yes Stiles, one that belongs with the Hales, if you choose to accept their offer.”

Stiles turned to Derek, his eyes hopeful, even after he had heard Stiles had helped bring his uncle back to life. The one whose hands he suffered by. Stiles realized, in the end he couldn’t say no to Derek but he knew there was no other alpha he would be willing to follow. Stiles nodded his head and brought their lips together in a kiss. Stiles felt like flowers were growing in his lungs, the cold gone and replaced by only warmth and beauty. Every moment felt like an eternity but at the same time like it was going by too quickly.

Lydia cleared her throat above them. “I’m glad you’ve made up, but I’m definitely not the one telling your dad that you’re running away to be a pirate.”

His laughter escaped his lips. “I know Lyds, I’m not going to dump that on you.”

“Well I certainly hope you weren’t planning on doing that.” John said and even from where Stiles was kneeling he could see the tears that were running down his face. Stiles jumped to his feet and brought his dad into a fierce hug. “I’ve missed you kiddo.”

“Me too.”

“So, quite an adventure you’ve been on. I would assume that would enough for a lifetime but it’s still not enough for you, is it?” Stiles shook his head. He didn’t belong in a heavily guarded area, surrounded by officers with only Ally and Lydia to keep him company, he belonged on the sea surrounded by his pack and travelling the world. John sighed deeply, “Fine, but the rules are you must come home at least for one month a year _with_ your…pack, and I definitely don’t want to hear you’re wanted for stealing or killing. Understand me?”

“Yea Dad, I understand.”

“Now, introduce me to this boy of yours.”

“Dad.” Stiles whined and John gave a chuckle in return. Derek walked up to Stiles and John, Deaton had already taken off his chains and washed off the thicker layers of blood that was caked onto his skin.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Derek, captain of the Hale pirates. I promise you, we don’t steal or kill anyone who isn’t a threat and I’ll always keep your son safe.”

“I never doubted that for a second. But if I do hear you hurt him in _any_ way, your uncle won’t be the only one without his head on his shoulders. Do I make myself understood?”

Derek looked at Stiles, fondness overtaking all his features and he said “Yes.”

“Well, I guess we have some pups to pick up, expect us all for dinner tonight.” Stiles grabbed Derek’s hand before running off the ship. His hands would be shaking if it wasn’t for the fact Derek held it in such a tight grip. When they were far enough from the view of prying eyes, Stiles stopped running.

“I missed you.” He whispered, tears fresh in his eyes.

“I missed you too.” Stiles jumped into Derek’s arms and they sunk together until they reached the ground. Stiles cried in Derek’s arms while Derek peppered kisses against his head while whisper soft words of endearment. It was over. It was all over and he was finally home.

***

When John said Stiles had to bring his pack home once a year, he didn’t expect this. John had all talked to them individually, getting a feel of them as a person because just because he knew them when they were children didn’t mean he knew who they were now. But they were nothing like the pirates he used to come across – they all felt so normal, just like regular citizens in town.

He definitely didn’t expect Scott to fall head over heels with Allison and vice versa and he definitely didn’t want to know what Lydia and Jackson were getting up to in the middle of the night. He just knew that every single morning everyone would scrunch up their noses and ask ‘why.’

Home was livelier than it has ever been. John, for the first time in a long while felt that this was his home rather than a place he was just living in. The house never seemed as dull and the silence as empty. The biggest change was with Stiles. It was…He was happy. It was the first time he had seen him that way ever since Claudia had passed. Sure he was content with Lydia and Allison but when he watched his son interact with Derek and his pack, it was breath-taking. The way he would be at ease and laugh with all his heart. He never missed the looks Derek and Stiles gave each other when the latter wasn’t looking. It reminded him of a time when he first met Claudia in town all those years ago and brought a rush of warmth to his heart.

He reached for his locket and gripped it tight within his hands. “Claudia, if you were here, you’d be so proud. Our little boy is all grown up and finally found his home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END!!
> 
> I want to thank everyone who's been on this journey with me. Thank you to all those who commented and gave kudos, honestly they made my day and motivated me to continue writing. I'm sorry the chapters became less and less frequent, school has been killing me so thank you for being patient with me. :)

**Author's Note:**

> How I decided to start writing a pirate AU .... I have no idea. I'll try my best to make a chapter every other week and I'm really sorry if I don't. I only read this like once or twice so I'm sorry if I've made any mistakes. My art/writing tumblr is [ here ](http://nyxiaa-doodles.tumblr.com/)


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